Everlasting Enchantment (22 page)

They clashed, snarled, striking with fang and claw.

Parted. Both a bit bloody.

But Millicent had come away with a clear knowledge of how Harcourt’s beast fought. He did not protect his left side.

When they clashed again, she concentrated on that weakness. She did not want to kill Harcourt, but she knew she had little time before the Master finished scolding his niece and turned his attention to his baronets.

They rolled across the dirt. When they came to a stop, Millicent was on top of Harcourt once again, but this time with his face and belly toward her, his neck in her teeth.

He growled.

She bit down, feeling his hot blood cover her lips, drip down her furry chin.

Please
don’t make me kill you.

Harcourt tried to throw her off once more. Millicent kept him firmly pinned to the ground. She shook her head, worried at the skin.

She saw Gareth’s pointed-toe boots. She should have known Bran would not be able to hold him for long. “Don’t do this,” he said. “There has been enough bloodshed tonight.”

The rest of the men watched quietly.

Gareth sighed. “Verily, my lady. If you will not wear the bracelet, it does not matter. If I cannot have you, I do not want anyone at all.”

Millicent slowly closed her jaws.

Harcourt’s eyes rolled back into his head and he shifted to human.

She almost sobbed with relief. She released his neck and pulled the bracelet off Harcourt’s arm, slipping it onto her own wrist. She rose to her feet, waiting for it to tighten, to claim her once more as Gareth’s lover. She stared at the band of silver, the colors within the moonstone swirling and winking.

“What’s this?” demanded Lord Sussex, breaking through the circle of men who surrounded them, Queen Victoria hard on his heels.

Millicent lifted her chin, winced at the memory of steel bars surrounding her, but faced the Master of the Hall of Mages with every intention of defying him. “I go wherever Sir Gareth goes.”

Lord Sussex raised his white brows, which climbed even higher when his niece ran to Gareth and threw herself in the knight’s arms.

“Your powers astound me, lad,” he said to Gareth.

Millicent frowned. “The queen is just under another spell. We used Sir Gareth’s blood to bind her to him… it seemed… easier, than trying to explain about Ghoulston.”

“And what’s your excuse?”

“I… I have none. Other than I owe Sir Gareth my life.”

“I see.” Lord Sussex bent down, patted Harcourt’s cheek. The were-lion’s eyes flew open and he clutched his neck, tried to speak. “Hush, lad. You’ll be fine… unlike many of my other baronets. I lost too many today, and Ghoulston will pay for that.” He glanced up at Millicent. “If not for your aid, and that of your underground friends, I would not even be talking about this, my dear. But as I understand it… isn’t the relic supposed to choose who wears it?”

Millicent glanced back down at the bracelet. She squeezed the band of silver, but it continued to dangle loosely on her arm. She stifled a cry of dismay. She had willingly given the relic to another. Could the blasted thing have somehow sensed it?

It would never claim her as Gareth’s lover again.

No. She would not believe it… and it did not matter! Damn the stupid hunk of metal! Millicent would never forsake him again. She clamped her teeth and shoved the bracelet higher up her arm until it stayed there.

Gareth stared at the relic, his forehead creased in bewilderment. Queen Victoria continued to hug his arm and gaze adoringly up at him.

“Obviously the relic no longer chooses you, Lady Millicent,” said the Master. “So you might as well give it to me.”

“Never.”

Bran shifted to bear, let loose a growl that reverberated louder than the black dragon’s. Harcourt responded, shifting to lion, the fur around his neck bloody, but facing off against the bear with a snarl that revealed his wicked long teeth.

“My spells cannot harm them,” continued the Master, nodding at the men shifting to beasts all around them, “but I can open a chasm in the earth to swallow them all. Is that what you truly want?”

Millicent glared at the old man. “I cannot let you keep the relic.”

“Enough.” Gareth stepped forward. “Stop it, all of you!”

Lions, tigers, jackals, hyenas… they all turned to stare at the knight, their growls fading.

Gareth nodded, then turned toward Millicent. “I said no more bloodshed. And I meant it.”

“I will not give him the relic!”

“Then give it to me.”

She blinked. He could not mean it. But Gareth held out his hand, his glorious blue eyes fixed on her, and she saw the sadness within them, the sorrow that spoke of centuries of living, of seeing too many deaths, too much wickedness. She could not add to his grief.

Millicent squeezed the band of silver one more time. It would not tighten. She could not force it to choose her. She slipped it off her arm, held it within her fingers.

She would be handing him her broken heart. Surely he knew that?

Gareth nodded, his long blond hair swaying in the light breeze.

Millicent placed the relic in the palm of his large hand.

Her breath caught on a sob. Ah, no. She could not cry. But neither could she breathe.

Gareth turned to Bran. “Take her home.”

Bran shifted to human. She felt his arms circle her, his gentle tug. “Come away, Millicent. Come away.”

She threw Gareth a last silent look of appeal. But he just stared at the relic, his face creased with misery and confusion.

Millicent shifted to panther, and followed Bran into the shadows of the night, back to the dark recesses of the Underground. Where she belonged.

Gareth watched Millicent until her black fur blended with the night, until all the Undergrounders disappeared from sight. He did not understand. He knew he loved Millicent with all of his heart. So why had the relic not chosen her again? Why had it tightened before, and not now? Perhaps… perhaps Millicent had been right all along, and he had been a fool to believe in her love… especially after she had betrayed him.

But the proof shook him to the core.

Queen Victoria plucked the bracelet from his hand. “Surely it will work for me.” She slipped it over her wrist, frowned when it did not tighten, then shoved it up her arm. “Well, I shall just keep it until it does.”

Lord Sussex scowled. “When will your… potion wear off the queen, Sir Gareth?”

“I’m not sure. A few hours, perhaps a few days.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in letting her keep the relic until then.” The Master turned to his baronets. “Now, then, gentlemen. Let’s get the wounded back to the Hall. Victoria, will you reassemble your carriage? We can carry most of them—ah, the message sprite.”

Lady Yardley strode toward them, her eyes round with wonder at the carnage about her, Ambrose flying near her shoulder.

The Master rattled off a list of demands to Ambrose, sending the sprite back to London for more wagons for the injured. Lady Yardley approached Gareth while the rest of the baronets scurried to do their master’s bidding.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where is Millicent?”

Gareth sagged to the ground at the sound of her name. Sorrow had dogged him for so long he thought he had become used to it. But this… this soul-tearing agony threatened to overwhelm him.

“Oh, you are injured,” cried Queen Victoria. “Uncle, we must get him into my carriage.”

And Gareth suddenly realized his pain wasn’t all mental, that most of the blood covering his tunic might be his own. His vision began to fade to black. Well, the relic would soon suck him back in and he would reappear healed and whole like always, the pain just another memory.

But the pain in his heart would still be there, and that hurt far worse.

Gareth had only a jumble of impressions after that. He felt someone lift him, felt the bouncing of the carriage as they traveled back to London. Heard snatches of an argument between the queen and her uncle about where Gareth should be taken.

The queen must have won, for he saw the diamond-studded walls of Buckingham Palace, and not the warded ones of the Hall. He was carried upstairs to a bedroom paneled in strings of diamonds, and laid on a bed of clean linen sheets. Cupids danced above him, carved into a wooden canopy. He heard whispered conversations, felt the calming warmth of healing magic, and was stripped naked and washed by a stern-looking matron.

When would the relic suck him back in and end this nightmare?

“How is he?” whispered Queen Victoria.

“He’ll recover,” answered Lord Sussex.

Gareth cracked open an eyelid. His entire body still ached, but the sharp pain in his side had faded with the healer’s magic.

“He is awake,” said the queen, who stood in a beam of sunlight that slanted from a floor-to-ceiling window. “Thank heavens. I am… yes, I am rather fond of him.”

Gareth bolted upright in bed, gasped in pain, but refused to collapse back against the linens.

The queen stood in a beam of sunlight.

Sunlight.

“It’s about time you quit playing possum,” drawled the Master.

“It’s morning,” replied Gareth in amazement.

“Jolly right. You’ve been winking in and out of consciousness for hours.” The old man studied him with a frown. “Wait… by Jove! Aren’t you supposed to be taken by the relic with the dawn?”

“Yes.” Gareth swung his legs over the side of the bed. They had dressed him in some kind of gown, but he wouldn’t have cared if he had been stark naked. He stood, his legs a bit shaky, but managed to walk over to that beam of sunshine. Queen Victoria backed up a step, staring at him with wondering eyes. Gareth walked into the golden light, felt the warmth spread over his shoulders and down his arms. He narrowed his eyes against the glare and smiled at the queen. Truly smiled. For the first time in centuries. “Yes! I’m not supposed to be here. I should be in the relic. I should
not
be in pain. But I welcome both. Both!”

“You’re babbling, man,” said Lord Sussex.

“Babbling? Yes! The enchantment is broken and… and I have not turned to dust! After centuries of darkness, I stand in the light. After eons of immortality, I am finally mortal! Me, Gareth Solimere, once a knight of the Round Table, and once cursed by the great Merlin himself. Do you not understand what this means?” Gareth spread his arms, lifted his face to that glorious sun. “I am free! Finally free to live out a normal life.”

“But how?”

The Master’s softly spoken words brought Gareth up short, and his arms fell limply to his sides. How, indeed. What had happened to break Merlin’s curse? Had the relic finally acknowledged Millicent as his one true love? No, the bracelet had not tightened on her wrist…

Gareth stepped from the glare of that circle of sunlight. He blinked, stared at the haggard face of the Master of the Hall of Mages. They stood in a sumptuous room decorated in diamonds. The walls dripped with strings of them, and any slight movement caused those strings to sway, the stones to sparkle with mirrored light. Magic had crafted tables from enormous stones, including a fireplace surrounded with a mantel of the rock. A curtain of diamonds hung from the corners of the canopied bed, draped the sides of the tall windows. Chandeliers with teardrop-cut diamonds studded the ceiling. In the evening, the room would sparkle in the glow of fire and candlelight. Right now, it flashed with a dizzying array of prismatic color from the refracted sunshine.

He frowned.

Had Merlin’s curse truly, finally, been broken?

“That is not an
illusion
of the sun coming through the windows?”

“No, Sir Gareth,” replied Queen Victoria. “It is as real as you or I.”

“I do not understand.”

“That is obvious,” said the Master, his white brows creased together in thought. “Surely you had some inkling that the curse had been broken.”

“None. I…” Gareth turned to Victoria. “Your Majesty, do you still wear the relic?”

She nodded, brown curls bobbing against her cheeks. She pushed up the sleeve of her gown, the blue poplin cording into folds at her shoulder. The bracelet easily slid down her arm, dangled at her wrist. “It still has not tightened for me. Although, oddly enough, that fact isn’t as important as it seemed to be a few hours ago.”

“Thank Merlin!” snapped the Master. “I think the spell is finally wearing off. I’ve had enough of
love
spells to last me a lifetime.”

“You know, Uncle,” mused Queen Victoria, “I did not believe you… about Lord Ghoulston… and Sir Gareth.” She frowned, a delicate wrinkling of smooth skin. “But I feel as if I am waking from some strange dream…”

“May I see the relic, Your Majesty?” interrupted Gareth, forcing his voice to stay calm.

“Oh, yes. I don’t see why not.”

Lord Sussex sighed with relief as the queen removed the bracelet and handed it to Gareth. “You wouldn’t have given it up a few hours ago,” he said to her.

“I rather think you are right, Uncle.”

Gareth studied the band of silver, turning it until the moonstone caught the reflection of the sun, something it had not done since the time of Merlin. A crack ran along the middle of the gemstone, something it had not possessed before, either… when had he first noticed it?

“What is it?” asked Lord Sussex, turning his attention away from his niece.

“The gemstone is cracked.”

“And it did not have this flaw before… no, apparently it did not. Do you think it has something to do with why you have not been… taken, again?”

“I am not sure.” Gareth felt the room sway. Alas, he could not ignore his injuries. They would never be magically erased again. He smiled, although he rather imagined it resembled a grimace, and staggered back to the canopied bed, collapsing onto a puffy blanket.

Why must they always be puffy?

“I first noticed the crack when Lady Yardley gave it to the were-lion in the Hall of Mages. Yes. But I thought it a trick of the light. Nothing happened to cause the break… nothing that I can recall.”

“Mayhap it did not happen then,” said Lord Sussex, dragging over a silk-cushioned chair sprinkled with diamonds at back and arms, and settling his bulk atop it. “Good heavens, Victoria. Do you realize we are witnessing an historic event?”

“The entire past twenty-four hours have been historic,” replied Victoria, who began to pace the room, stepping in and out of that glorious beam of sunshine, her brown hair sparkling every time the light touched her head. She looked beautiful. Almost as beautiful as Millicent.

Gareth squeezed the band of silver.

“Think back,” prodded Lord Sussex. “Can you recall anything unusual that happened before then?”

“I…” Gareth flinched. Before they had met with Harcourt, he had woken up in Lady Yardley’s bedroom… and he had discovered that Millicent had broken his heart. “Can it be?”

“What, man?” exclaimed Lord Sussex, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright with excitement.

“I heard something crack…” But he had thought it was his heart.

“And?”

“And… could Merlin be that vengeful? Yes, of course he could. And after the way I felt when Millicent betrayed me, I cannot blame him.”

Lord Sussex let out a huff. “I’m not following you. What, exactly, is the nature of the curse that confined you to the relic? I have only bits and pieces of rumors.”

Gareth nodded. Yes, best to start at the beginning, and reason this through. If reason could be found from it. And who better to help him puzzle it out, than the Master of magic? After the battle with Ghoulston, Gareth had every reason to respect the intelligence of this man. “The words have been etched in my mind, for they have echoed to me again and again over the centuries. He said, ‘Only true love will break this spell, boy, and I curse you to search until you find it.’ And I thought I had.”

“With whom?”

“Lady Millicent. The shape-shifter who helped us stop Ghoulston.”

“Ah,” acknowledged Lord Sussex, “the one who tried to take the relic.”

Queen Victoria paused in her pacing, a fleeting look of hurt passing her features. Then she shook her curls and resumed her course, only the slight tilt of her head in their direction indicating that she still listened.

“And so I could not understand why the spell hadn’t broken,” continued Gareth. “For I knew I loved her truly. So I thought Millicent must love me in return in order to break the spell. I used all my powers of persuasion to make her fall in love with me. And I thought I had succeeded—until Ghoulston’s men killed Nell.”

“Who is she?”

“A firebird, methinks. But perhaps more.” Gareth stretched his back, loosening the bindings around his waist. It hurt. But he had no time for that… or time to puzzle out the origins of Nell. “She is the only person Millicent had ever loved, and when Nell was taken from her, it hardened Millicent’s heart once more. She is… Lady Millicent has a strong sense of self-preservation.”

“Wise girl,” muttered Queen Victoria.

Lord Sussex frowned as he glanced at his niece. “You cannot blame yourself… or doubt your judgment of love because of a potion. It seems to me that Prince Albert had managed to capture your true affections before Ghoulston interfered.”

The queen smiled at that, her eyes suddenly glassy. “He
was
extraordinarily charming. And handsome.” She blinked at Gareth. “Not as handsome as you, of course—good grief, the drug must still be affecting me.” She started to pace again.

Lord Sussex turned back to Gareth, tiny dots of colored light sprinkled across his heavy features. “You must have been wrong about the shape-shifter. Her love must have been strong enough to break the curse—because here you are.”

Gareth shook his head. “No. I think I had it all wrong. When I was in Lady Yardley’s bedroom—”

Victoria gasped.

“Because Millicent had given her the relic to prove to you the truth of Ghoulston’s plans,” Gareth hurried to explain. “Or, well… yes, to see if Lady Yardley could break the curse.”

“Lady Millicent must love you very much to give the bracelet to another,” said the queen. “That is an unselfish act. She cared more for your happiness than her own.”

“Or she did not love me enough to keep me.” Gareth held up a hand as Queen Victoria opened her mouth to protest. He winced as his bindings pulled with the movement. Anyway, he must become accustomed to pain, and mortality. If he died now, he would never wake again. He grimaced. “At least, that’s what I thought at first. That she had betrayed our love, had betrayed
me
. And it broke my heart. And in that moment… my world turned upside down, and I felt as scattered as I often do when the relic releases me. And I thought I heard the breaking of my heart.” Gareth glanced down at the moonstone. “But now… I think it was the gemstone, and I believe I was set free at that very moment. Aah… of course! No wonder it did not tighten around Millicent’s wrist. The curse had already been broken.”

“Betrayal.” The Master rubbed his forehead. “What, precisely, did you do to make Merlin curse you into a relic?”

“I seduced his lover. Vivian.”

Victoria stumbled. Lord Sussex nodded with wisdom. “Then it makes perfect sense, Sir Gareth. Merlin did not curse you to find your true love. He cursed you until you were betrayed by your one true love. So you felt the same pain he did.”

“I believe you are right.” Gareth glanced down at the moonstone, ran a finger across the jagged crack in the gem. “Only now do I understand what I did to Merlin, and how deeply my actions hurt him. The old wizard fooled me for centuries. He wanted me to suffer as he had suffered. I had always thought a woman’s love would break the spell. Verily, women have betrayed me before, but none have broken my heart because of it. Only my own pain from the betrayal of my one true love could break the spell…
my
love for a woman… not the other way around. It just took this long to find the one woman who could wound me so deeply… And I no longer believe Merlin designed the relic to help me. Indeed, I think it just chose women at random, making it harder for me to find my one true love.”