“You better have a damn good explanation,” he said, his expression tightening. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? You’ve been missing for over a week.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. “There was something I had to do.”
“Something you had to do?” Dad shook my shoulders. “Is that all I get? I thought you were dead! I want a proper explanation.”
“I can’t. You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t believe me. But I can tell you, I’m not sick, I’m not crazy. But I can’t stay either. There’s somewhere I have to go. And I don’t – I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Dad laughed, though there was an almost hysterical note to it. “You are not going anywhere, young lady. You are beyond grounded. You need to get inside so I can call the police and tell them you’ve come home.”
The last thing I wanted to do was upset Dad further, or get the police involved, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I looked over my shoulder at Wyn for help, and Dad noticed him for the first time.
“Who the hell are you?” His eyes flicked rapidly between the two of us. “Is that what this has all been about? Did you run away to be with some boy? God, Cara, I thought you had more sense than that.”
Dad had gotten completely the wrong idea, and Wyn opened his mouth to say so, but I stepped back onto his foot.
“I’m almost an adult, Dad. I can make my own choices. Please don’t make it harder than it already is. I just came back to let you know that I’m fine, and that you don’t need to worry about me.” I tried to keep my voice strong, but it cracked at the end.
“You are my daughter, Cara. I am always going to worry about you.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. I hated doing this to him. I wished I could tell him the truth, but he’d never believe me. It was better this way.
“I love you, Dad.”
He hugged me back. “Cara…”
I was already pulling away, hurrying down the path towards the car.
“Cara.” Dad jogged after us.
I closed the door before he could reach us and Wyn pulled away from the curb.
I couldn’t look up; I couldn’t stand to see Dad’s devastated expression. Instead I stared at my knees, watching the damp spots appearing on my jeans.
“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” Wyn muttered under his breath. He touched my knee awkwardly. “Are you all right?”
I dashed the tears from my cheeks. “I’m fine. We need to go to Snedham.”
“No way, Cara. I thought your mother didn’t even recognise you. What’s the point?”
I glowered at him. I didn’t need reminding. “Just drive, Gwain.”
It took us fifteen minutes to reach Snedham, but as the familiar red brick came into view I felt my palms start to sweat.
I’d spent so many hours there, but this time felt different. I knew what was wrong with her now.
We parked the stolen VW on the far side of the car park and crossed on foot. Unlike the last time I’d been there, the sun was out. It was pale and watery but it still washed the ground in a faint glow.
The good weather meant some of the patients were outside, being escorted around the grounds by orderlies.
I took the three steps up to the main door at a run with Wyn close on my heels. The receptionist looked up as we came in and her eyes widened.
“Miss Page? We thought…” She trailed off as though uncertain what to say. I wondered what Dad had told them.
“I want to see my mother.”
“You know that visiting hours are made by appointment,” she said sternly, back on comfortable footing.
Wyn squeezed my arm as he slipped past me. He leant his muscled forearms on the reception desk, giving the woman a mega-watt smile.
“Can’t you make an exception just this once?” He locked his eyes on hers.
She blushed, clearly flustered. I could objectively agree that Wyn was a good-looking guy. Older than Lance, there was an edge to Wyn that I knew would appeal to a lot of women. It certainly appealed to the receptionist, even though she had to be in her early thirties. She fluttered her fingers through her hair, pink tinging her cheeks.
“I really shouldn’t, but if you promise not to be long…You know the way?” She added, looking at me.
The way to my mother’s room was ingrained on my mind; I could have walked it blindfolded. When I got there though, I hesitated. I suddenly wished Lance was with me. I pushed open the door with a trembling hand.
The room hadn’t changed. Somehow I expected it to have, but I guess I was the one who was changed. Mum was in her usual place, in the chair by the window.
She turned her head as Wyn closed the door behind us. For a moment her eyes were as blank as ever, but as she stared at Wyn the haze seemed to lift.
“Sir Gwain.”
As the name slipped from her lips a sob escaped mine.
Wyn stared at her in shock then glanced down at me.
“Did you know?”
“I thought – maybe, just maybe.” I crossed the room and crouched down beside her. Very slowly she shifted her gaze from Wyn to me.
“I know you,” she mumbled. Her fingers brushed a lock of hair back off my face.
“Mum, I need to talk to you. I need to know about Morgana.”
The colour drained from her face. “No – no. Not Morgana.” She shook her head desperately.
“I need to know what you saw, Mum. What vision did you have of her?”
“Not real. They tell me she’s not real.” I wondered how many times the doctors had said that to her, trying to convince her to ignore the visions in her head. I felt sick – she’d been told again and again that she was mentally ill and I wondered if she’d started to believe it.
I caught her hands in mine. “I believe you, Mum. She is real.”
Staring deep into my eyes, Mum began to talk, haltingly at first, then with growing confidence. “The stones shake and tremble. The sky is dark. There are no stars, no moon. It’s like all the light in the world has gone out. Sir Gwain and Sir Percival stand helpless on the outside of the stone circle. They want to help, but they can’t get inside the circle. And he – he lies unmoving on the ground. My baby, my poor, baby girl stands in the centre of a maelstrom, alone against the darkness.”
My heart raced as she blinked and her eyes focused on me. “My girl, Caronwyn.”
“Mum…” The sob clawed its way out of my throat, tears burning my eyes.
Her fingers stroked my cheek, eyes full of wonder.
“Oh, Cara, I thought I’d lost you.”
“No, Mum, I’ve been here all the time. But I have to go soon.”
“No.” Her voice rose to a shout. “Cara, you can’t face her. Please.”
I caught her hands in mine again. “I have to, Mum. I’m the only one who can. But I need to know, was there anything, anything at all you can remember that might help me.” I thought back over her description of her vision and suddenly the room felt cold and airless.
“You said ‘he’ – ‘he lies unmoving’.” My nails dug in as I tightened my grip on her hands. “Who Mum?”
The answer was obvious, but I needed to hear her say it.
“Sir Lancelot. She knows he is your weakness; she will use it against you. If you want to defeat her, you must not let his fate concern you.”
“How can I do that? I love him, Mum. I thought that love like this only existed in fairy tales – now I know it’s real I can’t let him go.”
Wyn’s fingers closed around my shoulder as my voice broke.
“We have to go. Time is running out.”
Out of the window the afternoon had crept on. If Mum’s vision was right, then we would face Morgana at night fall
“I won’t say goodbye,” Mum mumbled. “Come back to me, as soon as you can.”
“I will. And I’ll take you home.”
She smiled and squeezed my fingers, holding them tight un
til Wyn’s hand on my shoulder pulled me away.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I felt a strange, cold determination as we drove to Stonehenge. I wanted it over, finished. For the first time I was eager to get back to life. I wanted normal things like school work and exams. I wanted Lance to take me on a date.
The sun was dropping fast and I started to will the car on faster. We had to make it; we had to beat Lance and Percy to Stonehenge. Somehow the miles flew past quicker than they should have, and I wondered if Merlin, as far away as he was, was helping to speed us on our way.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Wyn asked as we passed the sign welcoming us to Whiltshire.
I twisted to look at Excalibur lying across the back seats, and then turned back to Wyn. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
Wyn nodded once and took the next turn.
The sky was the colour of blood by the time we came over the last rise. Then there it was, Stonehenge.
It sat atop a small, grassy hill, many of the stones still as perfectly placed as they had been thousands of years ago. The closest stone to us as we approached was the Heelstone – a roughly carved grey block, which leaned drunkenly towards the main circle.
The circle itself was breathtaking. Each stone was easily twice as large as a man. A number of stones had fallen, but it was easy to picture how the outer circle would once have looked. Inside the main circle was the remains of a horseshoe shaped second layer, including what would once have been the altar stone.
In the light of the setting sun the normally blue-grey stones looked like they were drenched in blood, reflecting back the light of the sky.
As we started running towards the stones, I glanced around constantly, expecting either Lance or Morgana to appear at any second. But the silence remained unbroken. It was late enough that all the tourists had gone and the circle was falling into shadow.
The stones themselves were roped off. Erosion caused by the number of visitors each year had forced them to stop anyone actually going right up to the stones. I could see the rope in the fading light and sped up. The ground suddenly trembled under my feet and I fell, scraping my hands and knees. Wyn was beside me, hauling me to my feet.
The sun had dropped below the horizon and darkness was falling far too quickly. Unnaturally quickly.
There was no moon and not a single star bloomed in the darkness. It was turning into the darkest night I had ever seen. Just like my mother’s vision.
We were still a distance from the circle when it began to glow with an eerie, silver light, and the earth lurched beneath my feet again. Wyn caught my arm to steady me and we kept running.
The clash of swords cut through the night and I redoubled my efforts. It wasn’t a steep slope, but my chest was burning, my legs like lead.
The air was soon full of the sounds of fighting. One voice rose above the clamour and my heart leapt.
“Percival, to me! Don’t let them out of the circle.”
“How the hell am I supposed to stop them? They won’t die.”
Wyn and I reached the outer stones and through a gap I could see the shadowy black forms of more wraiths. They closed around Lance and Percy, whose armour seemed to burn with a light brighter than any given off by the stones.
Percy fought one handed, his still injured arm held tight against his chest, but Lance was everywhere, ducking and diving through the wraiths. His sword struck more times than I could count, but the wraiths barely seemed to falter.
Before I could think, or act, Wyn had drawn his sword.
“For Albion,” he roared as he charged between the stones. At that point, I didn’t have any choice but to follow him.
Excalibur burned in my hand, like the sword itself was on fire, and when I drew it the blade seemed to glow like a white hot flame.
The wraiths either saw it, or sensed it, and they turned as one towards me.
Lance swore, but I ignored the names he was calling me as I stepped boldly into the stone circle. It was false bravado though, and my legs trembled as I crossed the broken stones.
Lance was suddenly beside me, his gauntleted fingers digging in almost painfully as he grasped my arm.
“What the hell are you doing, Cara?”
Then the wraiths were upon us and neither of us had breath for speaking. I ducked under a swung sword and drove Excalibur up into the wraith. It crumbled and I spun to bury the blade in the back of the wraith attacking Lance.
“Good job I was here, huh?”
He didn’t see the humour. “There is a reason I left you in Camelot.”
“Yeah, a stupid one.” I shouted as, for a brief moment we were separated.
“Why don’t you two chat less, and fight more,” Percy shouted from across the circle. He was almost overwhelmed. Three wraiths were pressing him, and his back was against one of the standing stones. Even as I raced towards him he ducked and the wraith’s sword struck sparks off the stone.
They turned as I came up behind them, but Excalibur made quick work of them. A single cut from its dragon forged blade and they crumbled.
Percy clapped my shoulder in thanks, and I staggered sideways. Together we ran back to where Wyn and Lance were holding off the last four wraiths. Swift cuts from Excalibur eliminated the threat.
As their armour clanged to the ground the sudden silence was disconcerting.
“My reasons were perfectly valid,” Lance said as though our conversation had never been interrupted.
“The hell they were,” I snapped back. Now that the immediate danger had passed all the anger came flooding back. “I am not some damsel in distress, Lancelot. I don’t need a knight in shining armour to protect me.”
“You do…”
I cut him off with a look. “Even if I did, you can’t make those choices for me. I get to decide which dangers I face and which I don’t. No one gets to decide my fate but me.”
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword and his whole body tensed, then he seemed to sag.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt, and if that means giving my life for yours then so be it.”
His deep blue eyes were fixed on mine and now we were together again I knew I would forgive him.
“Did you ever think that I felt exactly the same way?”
He smiled and slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest; he smelt of rust and armour polish. As far as I was concerned it was the best smell in the world.
For a moment, wrapped in his arms, I forgot the danger we were in. I forgot the reason we were there.
“Cariad…”
Whatever he had been about to say was drowned out by deafening crack of stone as one of the great standing stones toppled to the ground.
Lance flung me behind him as something moved in the shadows behind the stone. Something huge. My chest constricted and I shifted Excalibur between sweating palms.
The three men set themselves, tightening their hands on their swords. Percy drew in a deep shuddering breath; his face was white with pain.
I strained my eyes, trying to pierce the darkness. The faint light from the stones glinted on something metallic.
Before I could take a closer look there was movement on the opposite side of the circle and we spun towards it.
Small forms were creeping amongst the stones. Even as I watched one scrambled up to the top of a stone with apparent ease.
“What are they?” I hissed to Lance.
His fingers flexed around the sword. “Imps, goblins, call them what you will. They are the pets of the Fair Folk; dangerous and unpredictable. The Fey use them to do their dirty work.”
“Like Puck,” I mumbled.
Lance snorted. “Where do you think Shakespeare got the idea?”
The imps and goblins didn’t seem about to attack us, however. They encircled us completely but they seemed content to watch.
“What are they waiting for?” I said after a few minutes of tense silence.
“The
y’re merely here to watch,” Lance muttered. “To report back to their masters when we fall. The barriers are weakened, almost useless, but they are not yet destroyed. The Fair Folk wait.”
I shifted under the many eyes, my skin prickling with fear.
It felt as though the whole world had just taken a deep breath and we were just waiting for it to exhale, because when it did, all Avalon was going to break loose.
And then it happened. In the space of a heartbeat the whole world seemed to implode; everything went black.
Forces like strong winds buffeted me every which way and I was flung backwards till I hit one of the standing stones. There was one seemingly endless moment of stillness and then I opened my eyes.
I spun on the spot, but the stone circle was still, empty and silent. “Where is she?” My stomach churned as I continued to scan the circle. I knew exactly who had created that moment of chaos.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught an odd shimmer on one of the stones, but by the time I turned that way the shimmer had gone, to be replaced by a patch of darker shadow.
“Wonderful,” a low voice hissed. “A family reunion. Caronwyn.” Arthur, the voice added in the depths of my mind.
Arthur’s response was a string of curses. I fought back the desire to join him, and stayed silent.
“You really are very foolish to come here, girl. To think that you can face me.”
Morgana stepped out of the shadows and I gasped. The light of the stones gleamed on thick black hair and reflected in the palest of blue eyes. Morgana Le Fay wasn’t just beautiful, she was breathtaking.
A cloak of midnight blue velvet was wrapped tightly around her tall frame, and what little I could see of her skin was translucently pale.
Her Fair Folk blood was evident in her sharp features and her willow-like build. “See, even my very presence overwhelms you. Foolish, foolish girl.”
Her arrogant dismissal of me strengthened my resolve. I wasn’t a child, and I certainly wasn’t overwhelmed by her. I was downright terrified of her, but I wasn’t about to let it show.
“You really are a stupid, little girl.”
The Last Knight (Pendragon Book 1) Page 24