Shades of Avalon (12 page)

“So Mordred wasn’t Arthur’s brother or nephew?” Emma asked.

“No. Mordred was a Council member as was Morrígan. After Arthur…the Council hunted Emrys and imprisoned him using the same magic used to lock Excalibur in stone, leaving him powerless to escape. I fled. Morrígan had seen Excalibur with her own eyes and had no reason to think the stories of its power were exaggerated or invented by Emrys any longer. Word spread I took to a convent, distraught at my loss, and the legend twisted until the two swords became one.”

“How did you come to be in the park?” Triona asked.

“I’ve always kept the Council in my sights, but protecting Excalibur meant I couldn’t come forward before. After what happened at Tara, I knew Zeal would never just lie down and disappear. When I heard Triona had returned to London, I came here and was waiting for the right time to approach.”

“You were following us?” Emma said.

Guinevere nodded. “So were they. I want to help destroy the last remaining Council member. I’ve been hiding far too long.”

“We appreciate that,” Triona told her. “But so we’re clear, our first priority is finding my mate.”

“Of course,” Guinevere agreed.

Honestly, I was happy for any help—a massive shift from my earlier conviction in my competence to handle the situation myself. This revelation made my heart pound hard. Emotions tangled my thinking. Flashes of memory taunted me—of Tara and earlier with Emma. Both times I had failed to act when it was most important.

Amanda’s gentle fingers smoothed along my arm and brought me back into the moment. I found myself reaching over to her and tracing the pulsing vein on the side of her neck. She frowned and pressed her hand to mine as if sensing what I needed.

“I’m here, Ben. I’ll always be here,” she murmured next to my ear. Her soft lips and warm breath caressed my skin.

I turned, catching her lips in an innocent kiss before she pulled away and smiled. Her heartbeat skipped along. She gazed at me with her large brown eyes full of tenderness and heat, and it was all I could do not to rush her back to our room. Except I needed to make a call first.

The others seemed to ignore the affectionate display playing out in front of them. Triona and John got to their feet, leaving Emma to flop into Triona’s seat next to Guinevere. Her eyes darted in their direction before she looked away, her expression unreadable.

“I’ll set up guest rooms,” John said, guiding Triona out with his hand resting casually at her lower back.

“Come on,” Amanda urged me, pulling on my sleeve to get me to stand.

“I don’t mean to be intrusive…” Emma started, flicking her head back, “but…Lancelot? Was it true about you and him?”

I stood as the conversation switched and started out of the room with my arm around Amanda’s shoulder.

“No, I loved Arthur. Lancelot and I were never together. I became aware of his affection soon after I became queen. Despite his emotional conflict, he never would have acted on it. Lancelot lived by the same code of honor as Arthur. We were friends, nothing more.”

“Ohh,” Emma muttered, sounding a little disappointed.

“It’s a difficult burden to carry, having romantic desires for one who loves another.”

The rest of their conversation became mutterings once Amanda closed the heavy wooden door, and I tuned them out. Amanda made to pull me toward the kitchen, but I hung back, struggling with my near constant yearning to be by her side and my duty to everyone else. I couldn’t put this off. I had to call Samuel.

“What is it? You look like you’ve been sucking on barbed wire.”

“I have to speak to Triona about Guinevere. Then I’m going to phone Samuel and Annice. I think we need them here,” I admitted, sheepishly ducking my head.

“Yeah, we do need them, and it’s about time you saw that.”

I picked up her hand, tiny in mine. Amanda only appeared delicate on the outside—inside she was brave and determined. My face scrunched up as I thought about appearing weak in her eyes. She saw I couldn’t handle this before I’d accepted the reality for myself. Somewhere along the line, her faith in me had been shaken.

“Do you think asking for help makes me weak?”

She placed her hand on my forearm with an emphatic shake of her head. “No, no. You can’t think that way, Ben.” She cupped my cheek with her other hand, and I leaned into it, the heat of her warm palm, soft and very alive against my skin. “It shows you’re strong. Asking for help shows you are strong enough to recognize when you need help.”

“I’ve been an ass,” I admitted. “Thinking I know better than everyone else. Thinking I
am
better than everyone else.”

Amanda nodded and smiled. “I had faith. You’re a smart guy, Ben Pryor. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t promise much, but I will try harder.”

I crushed her to my chest, earning a yelp and then a giggle. I held her tightly anyway, dipping my nose into her hair to inhale the sweet fragrance unique to Amanda. Even as I stood there holding her, I felt my own strength grow, fed by hers.

Chapter 9

The Philosopher's Stone

I F
OUND
T
RIONA
U
PSTAIRS
with John, making up a mahogany sleigh bed with white sheets in an otherwise unadorned guest bedroom. Vertical blinds covered the windows but there were no curtains, and I noticed several paintings wrapped in plastic stacked against one of the walls.

I knocked lightly before I entered the open door, even though they worked in silence. John frowned and when Triona turned to me, I saw redness around her eyes.

“How are you doing?” I asked tentatively.

She sucked in a breath and held it a moment as she continued to push a pillow into a slipcover. John flattened his lips, his eyes tightened, I guess in an attempt to convey some silent message to me. Maybe he didn’t do it well, or we weren’t familiar enough to pick up on silent gestures. I couldn’t make out what he wanted to say.

“I can’t talk about it, Ben. Not yet. I’m not ready to face any possibilities other than finding Caleb, so please don’t ask me to.” She tossed the pillow down.

John scratched his cheek, his eyebrows jumped as though he knew already.

Crap
. How could I force her to confront her fears? I couldn’t yet.

“Okay. What about Guinevere? Is she for real?”

Triona’s demeanor changed in an instant. She perked up, and her shoulders lifted.

“She’s telling the truth.” Triona moved to the end of the bed, stopping just in front of me, tapping her fingers on the gleaming, dark wood. “She’s also concealing plenty. She’s suspicious—maybe even a little afraid.”

John dropped a sheet in a crumpled heap on the bed. “Is she trustworthy?”

“Are you?” I shot back.

John chuckled darkly. “Hey, I’m not the one who thinks it’s acceptable to wipe someone’s mind like a whiteboard at the end of a school day.”

“I thought you understood,” Triona pressed.

Her nails bit into the wood absently. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away before she damaged the furniture. She looked up at me, confused, her jawline strained. I smiled weakly, hoping to reassure her before I released my grip.

“You can walk away from this you know,” I said to John. He didn’t owe any of us anything, least of all Caleb. He had Emma to look after, and I was loath to draw a kid into the chaos of our lives.

John snorted and continued to pull the sheet out toward the corners of the bed. On the opposite side, Triona snapped the inoffensive piece of fabric with too much force.

“That’s just the thing. I’m not sure I have that option.”

“If you’re talking about this thing…this metamorphosis, whatever is going on with you, it doesn’t mean anything—”

“You can’t be sure of that,” he cut me off. He exchanged a look with Triona, and the color deepened on her cheeks before she lowered her gaze. “But that’s not what I meant. Those men Guinevere fought off found you, so they found us. They know who we are now. We’re involved whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not. I think I can protect myself. I also know there’s safety in numbers, so if I’m to have any chance of protecting Emma, we need to at least try to stick together.”

“You understand we can’t promise to keep you safe,” Triona explained. “I wish we could.”

“I’m not afraid to fight if I have to. Even before you returned my memory, something inside me triggered. I had this…” He paused, fumbling for the right words and pressed his hand to his abdomen just below his ribcage. “I don’t know what to call it other than gut instinct. I’ve been preparing for something. I guess this is it.”

It appeared I had underestimated John.

“This isn’t what I wanted for you.” Triona sighed and shook her head, her tone laced with disappointment.

John stared at her, his eyes widened, studying her. “I know that, but it wasn’t your decision then, and it isn’t now.”

Triona’s eyebrows drew down in a fierce scowl. She opened her mouth but snapped it shut again and retreated from the room. “I’m going to find Amanda.”

Neither of us attempted to stop her. John pulled out a storage box from under the bed and shook out a comforter. “We have another room I can make up for you and Amanda.”

I supposed it made sense for us to stay, although I’d have to return to the hotel to collect our things. I nodded. “That’s decent of you.”

John shrugged.

“To be honest, I thought you’d be eager to get rid of us. I didn’t think living on the edge was your thing.”

He flashed a sidelong glance in my direction, and one side of his lips pulled up in a half-smirk. “No offense, mate, but you didn’t see me at my best. You also seem to forget I tried to stop your wife from diving head first into a fight with Zeal and got a broken nose for my efforts.”

True, John did try to stop Amanda at Tara, and I’d never really given him credit for it. I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “I’ve had a bad habit of underestimating people.”

“Must run in the family.”

I didn’t miss the edge of irritation in his voice. I decided not push it. He had reason to be aggravated. It had to have stung finding out Triona didn’t trust him enough to get over his encounter with Guardians in time, in his own way.

“Level with me.” John walked around the bed, face to face we were approximately the same height. “Do you believe he’s still alive?”

I hesitated because I wasn’t sure of my answer. The idea of Caleb dying would have been inconceivable a few days before. He should have been safe, as we all should have been. Something had changed. “I thought we would have had something to go on by now.”

The skin at the bridge of his nose puckered. He hummed thoughtfully but otherwise said nothing.

“What about Emma? How do you think she’ll handle this?” I asked.

John laughed at that and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “You’ve met her. How do you think she’ll handle this? I would prefer if she went back to school, but my sister is diamond tough. She’ll be okay.”

“We need you over here,” I said the moment Samuel picked up his cell on the second ring.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice thick with anguish. “Is it Triona or Caleb?”

I glanced sideways at Amanda. She had curled up under a blanket on one of the couches downstairs. Despite it being the middle of the night, I didn’t have the heart to move her to the bed John assigned us upstairs. We didn’t have any of our things from the hotel yet, so sleeping on the couch seemed as good a place as any. Her lips parted when she rolled over and gentle snores mingled with slow classical music coming from the radio.

“No. Triona’s fine, and we have no news on Caleb. Guess I should have opened by saying we’re safe here. How are things your side? Lewis and Carmel?”

I needed to call them too, but I held back. They would be going out of their minds, no doubt. Experience warned me Carmel would get emotional, and I couldn’t give her any comfort.

“They’re worried but safe. I spoke to Lewis a couple of hours ago. I’ve called in favors, and I assure you they are well protected. No one will get anywhere near either of them. What’s going on with you?”