Legendary (7 page)

“He guarded the entrance to Arthur’s hollow. The Sidhe were desperate to find it, so they lured Galahad away and into a trap. But the knight was prepared and fought them off. They realized they wouldn’t be able to defeat him, so they did what they had to.”

Aliana glared at Daggerhorne. “You sound like you
approve
of what they did.”

“Not at all, my lady. But my kin have been hunted to near extinction by humans, especially Uther Pendragon.” His voice was pained. “As have the Sidhe and all bearers of magic.” Daggerhorne looked up into Aliana’s eyes. “Humans have always sought to destroy what they do not understand. Or they plot to use those who hold the power of magic for their own selfish gain.”

“Then why did Arthur have a sorcerer in his court as one of his most trusted advisors?”

“Arthur Pendragon was not like his father or like any other man in that time. He believed that magic was not something to fear and that those who wielded the power should have as much freedom as any other man.”

“Well, at least that sounds like the King Arthur of legend, but how do you know this, Daggerhorne? Surely you weren’t around back then.”

“My kind live for hundreds of years, longer if we are surrounded by magic. I am far older than you think.”

Aliana shook her head. “I don’t want to know, Dagg.”

“Dagg?” The little Dragon gazed skeptically at her.

“No offense, but you have a long name.” She shrugged, turning back to Galahad.

“So this is Lancelot’s son, the warrior who found the Holy Grail and was renowned for his chastity and purity,” she mused aloud, stepping to the amber and brushing her fingers across the rough surface that hid his face.

Dagg gave a small snort of disgust. “You humans. You can’t keep track of your history. Lancelot was his cousin twice removed. And none of the knights were chaste.”

Aliana’s eyes widened. “I think I’m processing a little too much right now, so let’s just free Galahad and get out of here. Then we can deal with your history lessons.”

“Very well,” he said, circling the stone. “Sir Galahad has been trapped for far too many centuries. It is time we give him back his freedom.”

“I totally agree, but
how
are we supposed to free him?”

“To free the man trapped in time, you must possess a weapon wielded by him, burnished by the flames of magic.”

“Flame of magic? Where is his sword?”

Frustrated, she ran her hand through her hair as she finally drew her attention away from the trapped man and looked at the room. The walls were lined with dozens of swords, knives, maces, and battle-axes—displayed like trophies. She studied all of them closely, but only one stood out to her. Hanging above a battered, green shield bearing naught but a painted sword was a warrior’s broadsword. The design was simple steel and leather, but the cross guard was engraved with Celtic markings.

“Is that his?” She picked up Daggerhorne to let him see the sword better.

“That is the sword of Galahad.” Daggerhorne spread his wings and jumped from her hands, digging his claws into the brick, clawing his way to the sword.

“Okay, so we have his sword, but can you tell if it’s been burnished by magic? If it hasn’t, how do we free him? We can’t sneak out of here, get the magic we need, and sneak back in without being caught by the Sidhe.”

Daggerhorne chuckled again as he turned his head to her. “My lady, I am a Dragon born of magic.
I
can burnish the sword, but once the flames consume the blade, you will have little time before the magic burns out.”

She was supposed to wield a sword covered in fire? Aliana turned and looked at Galahad again, wondering if he realized what was happening around him. She prayed not. How could a person stay sane like that? No matter what the risks, she couldn’t give up just because she might get hurt. A glimmer of hope burned a little brighter in her chest.

“Do it,” she told the Dragon. “We can’t leave him trapped in there a moment longer. No one deserves that kind of punishment.”

4

The Destined One surprises me. Aliana is so youthful, so brave, but also vulnerable. Her heart is broken and aching with loneliness. Shame washes over me. I am supposed to be her protector. If I had not spent two centuries locked in a cage, maybe I could have prevented whatever she has suffered! How can she do all she must when self-doubt and sadness rule her?
~Daggerhorne

A
LIANA
S
TOWED
H
ER
T
ORCH
in one of the empty holders along the wall and watched Daggerhorne’s purple eyes flash bright with magic. He drew a breath, and she felt the energy in the room sizzle against her skin, rushing to do Dagg’s bidding. Fire roared from his mouth, but it didn’t look like normal fire—single stars of magic lit each separate flame as they licked their way up from the pommel to the tip of the sword.

“Now!” Daggerhorne commanded. “Take up Galahad’s sword and free him.”

With both hands, she grabbed the sword and whirled around to face the amber. The magic fire fizzled and popped against her skin, sending waves of prickles surging up her arms, but she ignored it. Closing her eyes, she drew in her breath as she raised the blade high over her head. With all her strength, she brought the sword down, cutting into the solid formation.

The opposing magics collided, and the shock from the blow left her arms shaking, her hands unable to keep their grip. Opening her eyes, she saw that the sword had cut into the edge of the block, but other than that, the amber seemed unaffected. Furious with herself for failing, she tried to pull the sword free for another try, but the flames melted into the stone, disappearing completely.

“What did I do wrong?” She let go, stumbling back a step. Before she could ask Daggerhorne to burnish the sword again, a crack echoed around the room. Small fissures in the amber formed where the sword was lodged, spreading like a spider’s web deeper and deeper into the stone. Chunks started to fall, disintegrating, leaving no evidence of the amber’s existence.

Aliana was shocked when she got her first good look at Galahad. He was breathtakingly handsome. His features were Roman in shape, and his wavy hair was light brown, but the paleness of his skin spoke of his northern heritage. His jaw was strong and clean-shaven, his mouth was set into a firm line, and his eyes were closed.

The last of the amber fell away, revealing a powerful body, honed by years of fighting and training. Over his hand and wrist was a thick cuff of silver, decorated with a Dragon taking flight—the Pendragon seal. Here before her was a Knight of the Round Table, Camelot’s protector and loyal servant to King Arthur.

Dazed, her body moved closer to his, as if of its own accord, and her hand stretched out to brush against the cold silver of the cuff, tracing over the back of his strangely warm hand. The moment her skin touched his, a spark shot from her heart down her arm and to their connected hands. His eyes snapped open, finding hers immediately. Aliana’s world tilted. His eyes were a shockingly clear shade of blue—and they were focused on her! She was drawn into his captivating gaze, and a band clicked into place around her heart.

Barely able to breathe, she was drawn even closer to him, her hand reaching up to rest lightly against his chest. His muscles tightened and shifted under her touch. Before she realized it, his hands shot up, capturing hers and pinning them behind her back. He held her prisoner in his iron grip, though his breathing was shallow and rapid.

Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees. Galahad followed her down, preventing any chance of escape. “Who are you?” His demanding voice was cracked and dry from disuse.

Aliana tried to answer, but she couldn’t form any words.

“Who
are
you?” His voice was deeper and stronger now. “What are you doing here?” His face was inches from hers, and his eyes were a mix of confusion and cold anger as they searched hers.

She forced words past her terrified lips. “I…I’m Aliana Fagan.”

Galahad’s grip tightened, and pain shot through her arm, the gash from her injury on the stairs throbbing. “Please let me go,” she whispered. Terrified by his sternness, she tried to twist her arm free, but he was too strong. “I mean you no harm. I—I just want to help.”

“You forget yourself, Knight of Pendragon!”

Galahad’s eyes turned to meet Daggerhorne’s.

“You are bound by Arthur Pendragon’s code of honor, yet you would attack the woman brave enough to free you from your imprisonment and restore the king to this world?”

Galahad’s eyes closed, and he was finally able to take a deep breath. His eyes returned to Aliana’s, the cold anger burning away. Taking another breath, his eyes never left hers as he pulled her to her feet. He held her ever so gently until she had her balance back.

The knight towered over her; she just barely reached his broad shoulders. Backing away, she studied him, rubbing her sore arms and checking to see if she was bleeding through her makeshift bandage. Galahad seemed to take up all the available space in the small room. When she’d touched him, he had been solid muscle. A dangerous kind of strength rolled off of him, scaring and comforting her at the same time.

Galahad turned to Daggerhorne, looking away from Aliana. His face contorted, like he was confused. Though she was still upset by his actions, she couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“Lord Daggerhorne, what are you doing here?” There was a strange cadence to Galahad’s deep, soft voice with a long drawl on As and Es.

“
We
are here to free you from the Sidhe and get to Arthur’s hollow so we may awaken him. But I find myself worried that you will be unable to lead us there. You have clearly forgotten everything you stand for if you would take such action against a woman.” Daggerhorne’s power warmed the air as he narrowed his eyes on Galahad.

Taken aback by the Dragon’s harshness, Aliana glanced away from Galahad and glared at Dagg. “Stop! He’s been trapped for centuries, and he doesn’t know me from a Sidhe.”

“Lord Daggerhorne is right, my lady,” Galahad said, facing her again, surprise in his expression. “There was no excuse for me to hurt you the way I did, no matter the situation. I beg your forgiveness for my actions.”

His Carolina-blue eyes were clear and focused, the confusion from moments ago banished and replaced with a calm confidence.

“Apology accepted.” She smiled softly, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Galahad smiled back, looking way hotter than should be allowed for a guy who’d been frozen in amber for centuries. His hand closed around hers, strong and sure. He gave her a small bow, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a gentle kiss across the top. The newly formed band around her heart tightened, and her stomach felt like it had filled with dozens of popping bubbles.

“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Aliana. I am Sir Galahad, first knight of Camelot and loyal servant to Arthur Pendragon.”

Wow
was the only thought she could process as she stood numb to everything but his hand holding hers.

Galahad scanned the room that had served as his prison. No traces of the petrified amber remained. The only sign of where he had been was his sword lying discarded on the ground. His brow furrowed. “How did you free me?”

“Your sword,” Aliana answered. “Dagg burnished it. It broke the amber trapping you.”

She watched Galahad bend down to pick up his weapon, taking in the grace of his movements and the air of power that clung to him.

After an appraising glance at his sword, the knight straightened and turned back to them. “We need to go.”

Dagg nodded. “The Sidhe will soon notice that their enchantment has been broken. We need to be far from here when that happens.”

Aliana grabbed the torch and headed toward the opening that led back into the hallway.

Before she could leave, Galahad placed a warm hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. “I go first,” he told her. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he added, “It’s safer, and I have a weapon.”

Aliana wasn’t used to following anyone, except maybe her father. She opened her mouth to fire a smart comment, but Daggerhorne’s soft growl stopped her.

“He’s right, my lady.” Stretching up, the Dragon wrapped himself across her shoulders again.

Considering that she was deep inside the lair of an enemy she knew very little about, she decided that following wasn’t such a bad idea. “Okay, but we need to stop by the stream behind the keep so I can get my pack. All my stuff is in there.”

Nodding, Galahad surveyed the hall before motioning for Aliana and Dagg to follow. He kept his sword at the ready and his eyes watchful. They made it to the stairs unchallenged, but Galahad’s posture remained tense.

“Watch out for the steps,” Aliana warned in a low voice. She pushed the torch to the side, showing him the crumbling stairs.

“Leave the torch,” he warned. “The light will attract unwanted attention.”