Ever My Merlin (Book 3, My Merlin Series) (41 page)

A thick tongue extended and licked my wound. Saliva coated the gash while the bumpy tongue swept away the blood in slow whorls, much as the warm ocean bit and nipped at my toes. I lay still through it, oddly and completely content.

The monster gave a final lick and started to fade.

“Wait,” I told it.

The bull looked at me curiously. I put a hand up to its cheek. It crooned into my palm and snorted hot breath that tickled my skin.

“I need to ask you something.”

Its red eyes watched me calmly and waited.

“Who am I?” I asked him.

I didn’t think he would answer. He stared off into the volcano. A shadowy figure moved behind us that caught his attention.

“
Daughter of the sun and sky. The Preserver,
” Vane said in a low, rougher voice. “
The one for whom I waited—the one to free me
.”

The one to free me. It didn’t sound good. “Hercules defeated your father on Crete. Do you know the story?”

It snorted with displeasure. “
Poseidon resurrected me with my memories.
”

My heart sped up. “Do you know how many apples Hercules stole from Elysium?”

“
My mother said three.
”

The shadowy figure stepped onto the beach behind us. It was Matt.

The bull vanished and in its place, Vane sat beside me once again.

Vane gave me a considering look. “You didn’t panic.”

“You did.”

I wasn’t talking about the wound. He knew it.

He glanced at his brother. “Merlin is right. I’m not the one meant for you.”

“I’m not the little princess from your memories, Vane. I don’t need to be protected.”

Taking my hand, he jerked me up into a sitting position. “Then, why do I keep having to rescue you?”

He winked out of sight, leaving me alone.

“Jerk,” I repeated.

I opened my eyes to the bright light of the cathedral. The salty scent of the surf still lingered on my senses.

Matt sat on the floor in Vane’s place. “You talked to the monster.”

Mark hovered behind him. Thoughtful amber eyes flickered over my healed skin. I touched it gingerly. “I’ve always been afraid, but this time… I wasn’t.” I looked at him. “We have to go to London. I figured out how to save Vane.”

“That’s going to be difficult,” Matt said.

“Why?”

“The story just broke. The Queen conferenced me to formulate a response.” Matt held up an iPad. It was stopped in the middle of a news clip labeled ‘Breaking News – End of the World Tomorrow.’ A reporter sat with Dr. Latimer, the physicist who’d written the supernova report for the UN.

He said grimly, “Kronos’s Fury has gone public.”

I wished I could close my eyes and go back to the beach.

***

Later that evening, I stood beside King Henry V’s tomb inside the gothic grandeur of Westminster Abbey. The main hall of the monastery boasted pointed arches, rose windows, gold filigrees. Statues of knights, kings, and memorials to the famous and not-so-famous departed lined the stone floors as well as the walls. Tucked past the main hall, in the tomb, the coronation chair of Edward the Confessor, and all subsequent British monarchs, stood upon a stone pedestal.

The simple wood chair with a high back and plain finials didn’t seem all that grandiose, more befitting the simple stone frame of the monastery than its layers of accrued adornments over the centuries. The chair had a simple seat and small wooden legs. Sometime in the sixteenth century, a base of gold with four gilt lions serving as its legs was attached at the bottom of the chair.

I ran one hand over the stone pedestal and gripped the strap of a bag I’d picked up at school with the other. “This is it, Mark.”

“What are you doing sneaking in here?” a furious voice asked me. “You set off about a million intruder alarms. They have a wireless security system. At least that made it easier.”

I jumped about a foot in the air. I turned to see Vane striding down the silent monastery. Somehow he fit in the cold walls of the church, and yet, he also fit in the ultra-modern black suit he wore. Mark had broken through the security gates, but with brute magical force. I hoped it would take care of any other alarms in place. I arched a brow at Mark.

He returned a tight smile. “Vane told me to let him know if you tried anything.”

Great. I recruited a spy.

“Get back to the school and cover for her,” Vane barked at Mark. I’d snuck a van out of the Avalon Prep garage, and convinced Mark to come with me.

Mark jumped to do Vane’s bidding.

“Don’t even think about it.” I glared at Mark. It took several hours to drive back to Somerset from London. “How am I supposed to get back?”

“I’ll take her back,” Vane said.

Mark shrugged. “You needed a wizard, DuLac. Vane’s a better one.”

He is also a bastard.

“I never said otherwise.”
The words shot back in my brain.

Mark rushed off without a backward glance, leaving me alone with the one person I didn’t want to be alone with. I muttered, “I need to enlist better help.”

“Merlin’s caretaking skills are abominably lacking,” Vane said with exasperation.

I glanced around. No minions lurked in the shadows. Vane was alone. For once. I scowled at him. “The schedule has you in Paris.”

He inclined his head. “You memorized my schedule?”

I glowered at him.

Stormy green eyes turned smug. “I finished in Paris early. Others are working here.”

“And your usual entourage?”

“Getting ready,” he replied cryptically. He tilted his head. “Why are you here, sword-bearer?”

“You told me to find another way.” I turned back to the Coronation Chair. “Do you remember Glastonbury Abbey? During Arthur’s time, it was considered one of the wealthiest and most well-endowed churches in the country. Said to supposedly house the tombs of Arthur and Guinevere.”

Glastonbury was the town outside Avalon Prep, otherwise known as ‘the mystical land of Avalon.’

“So?” Vane walked closer to me. He put a hand on my back, and my loose T-shirt suddenly felt tight.

However I refused to jump when he called. Stiffening, I took a step away from him. “Legend has it that Joseph of Arimathea, one of the three brothers who went on the quest for the Grail, found it and brought it with him to the abbey.”

“I thought it was Perceval, Bors, and Galahad,” Vane said.

I shrugged. “Different names. Same story. Anyway, after 1066, William the Conqueror commissioned the Doomsday to take a census, but everyone knows he was also evaluating wealth. During that time, everything truly valuable was taken out of Glastonbury Abbey and brought to Westminster to keep near the king. William was the first king crowned here.”

Vane tugged at a strand of my hair. “What does it have to do with the chair?”

“A panel under the seat used to enclose the Stone of Destiny. Today that stone sits in a museum in Scotland, but I think the whole ‘Stone of Destiny’ is a cover story to keep track of what’s truly hidden here.”

I turned to look at him. The shadows played over the hard lines of his cheekbones. In the silent peace of the church, he only appeared more vivid. Being near him sent a shaft of agony through me. Why did he keep running away?

“What is hidden here?” he said huskily.

I swallowed and resisted the urge to touch him. My fingers ached to confirm he was real. He was here. “The Lady sent Hercules to steal the apples from Kronos. Matt and I found one apple in Sri Lanka. In a place she directed Matt to go. In your memories, you, Perceval, and the princess found another apple that Poseidon took. Well, what happened to the third apple? Why do we have these stories of the grail? What if the last one was brought home? Taken back to Glastonbury Abbey—to Merlin, to Arthur. During the dark ages, the churches were the only places of light. If a treasure of such importance had to be kept, it would be kept by them.”

Vane turned to the wooden chair of kings. “And later William the Conqueror put it in his chair?”

“During the dark ages, the churches were the only places of light. If a treasure of such importance had to be kept, it would be kept by them.”

Vane turned to the wooden chair of kings. “And you think the chair is the marker?”

I nodded. “The real stone of destiny. Hiding in plain sight.”

“Not quite plain.” Vane waved his hand and shifted the chair forward along with the waist-high modern pedestal. It butted up to Henry V’s casket. The movement in the already tight room pushed me up against Vane.

He caught me about the waist. “Ryan—”

“You left, Vane. I’m pissed. Just let me stay that way. It’s easier.”

“I never had a choice about leaving.”
Since I was a boy.
His arms tightened around me. “Someone had to build the gates.”

“You could have taken me.”

“I didn’t think you would want to come.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“You were injured, sword bearer, and your protector took over. You needed to rest.”

I pushed him away, sputtering, “And I should be grateful? You are the most conceited… pompous… idiotic…” I broke off to grind my teeth. “Don’t worry. The sword-bearer will do her part tomorrow. You don’t have to seduce me into it.”

Vane stared at me. “Is that what you think? That I want you because of Excalibur?”

“What else am I supposed to think? You and Matt have been going back and forth over me since we met; and it’s not because I’m so awesome that you can’t live without me.”

Even though I want you to think so.

Vane snorted with laughter. “Yes, sword-bearer, I don’t know how we’ve managed with such burdensome baggage like you.”

“Shut up.” Humiliation colored my vision red. I confessed my deepest fear and he was laughing at me. I pointed him out of the room. “Just go away, Vane. I can do this by myself. I don’t need you.”

“I know you don’t.” His expression tightened. “I’ve been given away too many times to not know that.”

“So instead you’ll just push me away first?”

Green flashed in his eyes. “You made your choice in the maze—”

“And you chose the Minotaur!”

Vane caught my wrists and held me against the pedestal. “I did it for you. To save us.”

“Then you have no idea what I want,” I said. “If all we’re going to save is us, then we haven’t done anything. Why bother with the gates, Vane? Why bother saving anyone? Don’t tell me the mermaids matter to you.”

“The ones who care about me matter to me.”

“When are you going to learn that it’s not enough to protect the ones that matter to you? It matters what mark you leave.”

Vane let go of me. “If you want sanctimonious, go back to Merlin.”

“At least he has a heart, Vane. You’ve cut yours out.”

He recoiled as if I struck him. “It was cut out.”

By his mother. By the Lady. By Merlin. By me.

It was the way he saw it. He was wrong.

“We’re human. It’s what we do.”
Hurt each other. Then glue each other together again.
I put my hand on his chest. “You can grow another one.”

“It’s not that easy.” Vane turned away. He stared at the floor of the church.

He flexed his hand. “
Khand.
”

The floor exploded. The panel was thin, as I’d predicted. The perfect hiding place. Vane leaned down and reached in past the rubble and cleared it away. I put my hand on his neck; my fingers slid through his hair.

He sat back on his knees. “There’s nothing here. It’s gone.”

“No.” I dropped down and dug into the rubble. It was a hidden compartment—an empty one. I clutched my chest. “It can’t be.”

Vane tucked me to his side. “I told you, love, it’s not that easy. Nothing ever is.”

Vane led me outside. I walked in comatose silence. It had been my last-ditch effort. I’d failed again. We went through the narrow buildings. My whole body shook, a bundle of nerves. The streets were eerily silent. London, a ghost town. I never would have imagined it.

We crossed into the more residential sections of the city. Many of the windows looked to be boarded up. Even if people didn’t quite believe the end of the world alarmists, they were taking precautions. Not that it would matter.

A black truck screeched up to a small building.

Vane pulled me out of sight into the alley.

A family rushed out—a mother, a father in military uniform, and three children. Under the cover of the night, they snuck onto the street, obviously trying to stay quiet. The mother had tears running down her cheeks. She clutched the smallest of the three, a toddler boy, to herself. A Superheroes backpack dangled from her arm. The other children, a teenage girl and a preteen boy, wore heavy backpacks. Another man in black uniform stepped out of the truck.

“Tom Drust, ready?” he said in a clipped voice.

Tom, the father, nodded. “These are my eldest, Maura and Max. They’re on the list.”

“Mum!” the preteen boy cried. The father picked him up in his arms. He and the teenager, who also started crying, stumbled to the truck. The father hustled the two kids inside.

“We have others to pick up,” the military man prodded the father.

“Anyone not show?” The father’s voice broke. “We have Mark.”

The military man checked a smartphone he carried. He shook his head. On the street, the mother burst into loud sobs. She held the toddler tighter in her arms. The Superheroes backpack dropped to the ground.

In the alley, Vane’s front pressed against my back. His arms went around my waist.

I heard the father’s whisper down the quiet street.

“I’ve been assigned to guard the London gate. The gun is in the safe. Two bullets for when you need it.” The father’s face streamed with tears. He wiped it, gave the younger kid a pat on the cheek, and turned away, his shoulders drooping with failure.

Evacuees.
This was real. This was all there would be. I put my hand to my mouth in the alley. Nausea rose in my stomach and climbed past my throat. I choked it back.