Ever My Merlin (Book 3, My Merlin Series) (18 page)

I glanced at the little girl. “How did he treat your sister?”

“He didn’t. He mostly ignored her.”

Not wanted.
I poked at the fire. I knew the feeling all too well. “And the bow? She’s exceptionally skilled.”

The boy yawned. “She always has been. My mother had the bow made. She said she had a dream she should.”

“A dream?”

The boy nodded. “She said my sister’s father spoke to her in it.”

“The Vandal king?”

“I don’t know. It was a dream.”

“A dream,” I muttered. My time with Merlin had taught me not to easily dismiss such things. But what purpose lay behind the little princess’ gift? I lay down and stared at the jagged rock across the cave’s ceiling. Who knew what purpose destiny had in store for me? I was taken from my home. My fingers curled into a tight ball. Whatever my destiny was, I was getting tired of it. I glanced at the two of them. Was it really a coincidence that I stumbled upon them? What game was I involved in now?

“Perceval,” I said.

The boy looked at me with bleary eyes. “Hmm?”

“Your new name,” I explained.

The boy smiled, the luminous smile of an untouched soul. For a moment, I had to suck in my breath at its purity. It reminded me so much of my little brother. I could almost see his small face in the fire’s glimmer. I had to tamp down the pangs of regret. It took every ounce of my will to ease a scant space away from them. I could ill afford to get involved with these two. I had no need for friends. Such weaknesses had surely been beaten out of me long ago. I only needed to survive. The boy had taken one item of particular value.

“Perceval,” I said. “Where have you hidden the apple you took from the vault?”

CHAPTER 8

LOVE ME, LOVE ME NOT

I
jerked out of Vane’s memory when Matt pulled me off the ground. The mountain stopped rumbling. People on the trail seemed to be moving at a less frantic pace. Then, another crackle of thunder hurried them along. Some persisted, lingering to stare at the destruction. In place of the shrine, there was only a deep sinkhole, surrounded by haphazard blocks of crumbled concrete. Down on the second level, the poorly constructed buildings lay in shambles. Yet, despite having just lost their home, the monks continued to help the injured with stoic expressions.

“It can be rebuilt,” said Matt, correctly reading my thoughts. He grabbed my wrist and tugged. “We’ve done all we can.”

I stared at him. “You said the booby trap is for people who can’t prove they’re worthy. Does that mean you knew this might happen?”

Matt’s face blanched. “We’re disturbing secrets that have been used as protections going thousands of years back.”

I ground my teeth. “I’ll take that as an affirmative. Why didn’t you think to have some kind of plan if it did?”

“I didn’t have
time
to come up with a plan.”

“You mean you didn’t want to risk letting anyone else in on a plan… Say someone who could have blocked off this mountain for us.”

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t risk it,” he said without remorse.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m realistic. We don’t have time to go through the proper channels.”

“Says you.”

“No one died, Ryan.”
Unlike on your watch.

The words punched me somewhere low and deep. Blake’s face flashed between us. Tears stung my eyes, and I took a sharp breath.

Matt raked a hand through his hair. “We should go before anyone starts asking questions.”

I reined in the pain. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“This is only the beginning,” Matt said, unknowingly echoing Vane’s words.

A crack of lightning streaked above us. Rain came down with a vengeance as we began our descent off the mountain. A sign told us we were in Ratnapura, the city of gems. About a hundred feet down, the stairs became very steep and we clutched the handrails for fear of tumbling over the edge of the mountain. Sheets of rain made the passage even more treacherous. I clung to a set of large chains riveted to the rock.

Matt touched the chains. "These chains were supposedly placed here by Alexander. They could be over a thousand years old."

"So thrilled to know," I shouted back at him. Usually, I loved historical tidbits, but not right now. Not when I was depending on the very thousand-year-old chains with my life. I muttered, "As soon as we survive this mountain, remind me to beat you with that cross."

Matt sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come along.”

I slipped on wet stone. Matt caught my arm to steady me. I shrugged him off and clutched the handrails tighter. It took three hours of painstaking footholds to get down the mountain. A white dome temple, the beacon of hope, nestled in a valley of mist tucked between the mountains and curtained by crisp, green vegetation came into view. Yet, I didn’t slow down to admire the sight. With each step, my anger at Matt grew. I couldn’t believe his nerve. He would never trust anyone enough and yet, I was the only one wrong.

I dropped my sodden backpack and collapsed under a covered bit of curb. We’d finally reached the bottom of the trail and a small walkway. The path led off the steps and into a sparse huddle of stores and homes, the last stop to get souvenirs. I even saw a T-shirt declaring, “I Peaked,” which would have been funny if I wasn’t too wet to smile.

Finally, I asked, “Now what?”

“We get back on the train and find out what the cross opens.” Matt peeled off his rain poncho. Wet hair hung over his forehead and the collar of his coat. His T-shirt was soaked against his lean chest, clinging to every hard muscle.

I told myself I wasn’t impressed. “It opens something?”

Matt discreetly took out the metal artifact and traced the curves of the cross. “Looks like a key to me.”

“We’re looking for a door. Are you telling the truth this time?”

Matt scowled. “Are you going to stop using me as a substitute punching bag?”

My jaw dropped. “I am not!”

“Vane’s good at pushing every button and you’re letting him push all of yours.”

My anger deflated like a punctured balloon. I stared down at my tennis shoes. The previously white laces and rubber lining were stained an ugly brown with mud.

Matt sat down next to me. “You’re stronger than him.”

“Am I? I never thought so.”

Matt’s shoulder brushed mine. “Maybe you should start.”

I raised a brow. “Maybe you should start telling me why you’re following Alexander the Great around on this island.”

Matt grinned. “Maybe you should trust me.”

I blinked, my gaze snared by his inky, amber eyes. “You smiled.”

His expression turned self-conscious. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Ryan, bear with me a little while longer.”

Picking up my cold hand, he squeezed it, and in the middle of the Sri Lankan jungle, surrounded by the smells of roadside egg rolls and hot chai, the clouds shifted enough to allow one single ray of sunshine to shine down on us. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all. I didn’t squeeze his hand in return, but I didn’t attempt to pull it back either.

“Where are we off to next, oh wise Merlin?”

Matt’s expression turned sheepish. “Ella.”

***

We never returned to the hotel. Not that it mattered; everything I owned at the moment fit into the small backpack I carried up the mountain. The train from Nuwara Eliya to Ella showcased rolling hills and colorful foliage with enough wild in them to spread out across the land in interesting patterns. Within two minutes of staring at the scenic vistas, I passed out from complete exhaustion.

I woke up with my head on Matt’s chest. A bit of drool spilled from the side of my mouth, smearing his coat. I jerked up and the back of my head bumped against the metal side of the train. I winced and wiped my mouth at the same time. My seat was beside the window and Matt sat next to the aisle. I mumbled, “You could have just pushed me aside.”

“No worries.” He shut the guidebook, his constant companion, or crutch, as I was starting to think of it. “You don’t snore… that much.”

“So funny,” I said, despite the flush spreading over my face. I half-heartedly hit his shoulder. “I thought you were the nice brother.”

Matt raised a brow. “Since when?”

“W-well, in comparison—” I stuttered.

“Is that why you didn’t pick me?”

This time, my entire body flushed. “W-what?”

“Why Vane?”

“Uh—”

“You like that ‘I think I’m so hot when I’m yelling at you’ kind?”

Well, Vane was—hot, that is. And he did yell a lot.

“No need to answer.” Matt sank back into his seat. “I see the answer on your face.”

“He doesn’t lie either,” I retorted.

This time Matt flushed. “I’m trying to keep us alive.”

“Isn’t that what you always say?”

The train screeched to a stop. Someone shouted out, “Ella.”

Without a word to me, Matt got up. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder in jerky movements and marched out of the train. I hurried after him. The Ella train station was one long Victorian-era building with a tiny platform. More red-and-yellow decorations were strung along the platform’s ceiling. Matt walked straight to a line of waiting tuk tuk drivers. We clambered into the three-wheeler.

Matt barked, “Ella Caves,” and the tuk tuk ambled off.

In a rare bit of clear weather, we passed through the center of town. The driver pointed out a big tent, packed with people. During the festival, rice and jakfruit curry were offered free to any passersby. My stomach rumbled.

"Forget it." Matt handed me a cereal bar from his bag. "Vane knows where we are now. We have to move fast."

I waved away the bar with a grimace (I hated mixed berry) as we zoomed out of the one-road mountain town. The road was fairly well paved, but a bit hair-raising. The tuk tuk flew up the steep sides of the hill country. We must have been going at least thirty to forty kilometers (that’s a brisk eighteen to twenty-four miles per hour), yet I was clutching the side of the doorless car and hanging on for dear life. My nose tickled with the scents of damp air and overgrown leafy vegetation. It perfectly suited my new occupation as intrepid explorer in search of ancient treasure, and with the “save the world” badge pinned to me I could ignore all that pesky concern over preservation of cultures and habitats that modern archeologists worried about…

The justification almost assuaged my guilty conscience.

“Why?” I turned away from the entrancing landscape to Matt. He sat stiffly against the opposite side of the tuk tuk, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. The small interior and rickety ride made this fairly difficult.

“Why what?” he groused.

“Why do you want to save the world? You don’t even like people.” I flicked a finger at the guidebook tucked in the front pocket of his bag. “All you care about is books and such.”

“I care more about seven billion people,” he said dryly. “Are you still upset about the temple? If it makes you feel better, I can get a donation together for a restoration project. It will prop up the local economy for decades.”

“You can’t buy your way out of everything.”

“Like Vane tries?” he said.

I frowned at him. “That’s not who Vane is.”

Matt snorted. “You’re right. He doesn’t care about money. He cares about power. That’s who he is… the kind you like.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is it possible for you to find one redeeming quality in your brother?”

Matt’s lips thinned. “I’ve tried for years. Against my better judgment, I tried. I invited him into Camelot and he destroyed it.” He stared somewhere over my shoulder. “Vane was taken to train to be a warrior when I was very young. I don’t know the exact age. After he returned to Britannia with Perceval, he never answered my questions about what happened to him and I never could ease the strain between us. I always wondered if we’d been too close before he left.”

My chest squeezed for them. For the two brothers… they’d been so young and so defenseless. But something didn’t sit right. I said, “Perceval and his little sister.”

“What?”

“He returned with Perceval and his little sister from Carthage to Britain.”

Matt’s expression turned thoughtful-Merlin. “You saw her in an another memory?”

I nodded.

“Perceval never said a word about a little sister.”

“She was there,” I insisted. “If she never made it to Camelot, what happened to her?”

Matt sighed. “I don’t know.”

“She was just a little girl!”

Matt shook his head. “It happened long ago, yet it goes to show what I’ve been saying all along—Vane’s past gets more questionable with every revelation. Maybe you should think on that.”

The tuk tuk stopped before a sign with a mix of squiggly writing and English stating “Rawanaella Ancient Temple and Cave.” The sign showed a picture of steps leading up to a jungle cave straight out of Indiana Jones. A little farther up, a small square temple stood to the right of the pathway. It had a raised veranda and seemed to be about one-room deep. Matt paid the driver, but we didn’t go into the temple.