Shades of Avalon (17 page)

I looked and saw nothing but cave. “I don’t see anything.”

“Wraith!” she screeched and buried her head behind her arm.

Amanda closed her eyes and covered her ears, rocking back and forth.

“The spell doesn’t want us to leave. It doesn’t want to die,” Merlin mumbled into his chest.

“Magic isn’t alive,” I yelled.

He raised his chin and cackled. The sound resonated around us. “Of course magic is alive. Where is it you believe magic comes from? From life. Without us to feed on, it will fade and die.”

“Then what now?”

“Open the portal, mountain.” Merlin practically sang the words as he stitched an imaginary piece of cloth in his hands.

“You’re not helping, magic man. This isn’t a mountain.” Anger quivered through my words, and Amanda whimpered again. A jagged pain stung my eyes. Regardless, it seemed my disorientation was significantly less than the others. Not that it mattered. I had no idea how to get us out of here. Excalibur would fail soon, as drained and useless as the rest of us, and plunge the cave into darkness. We’d all end up as loony as Merlin, wandering around, scribbling on walls for eternity in a place where time didn’t exist.

“Mountain, mountain, mountain…” Merlin droned on until it was impossible to block him out.

I dragged my fingers through my hair and frowned so hard my face ached.

“Mountain?”

“Can you please shut the hell up, magic man,” I growled toward Merlin.

He cocked his head to the side calmly, strangely lucid. “What are you waiting for? Open the portal.”

I rocked backward. He was talking to me. I was a mountain, and he wanted me to open a portal home? Undeniably, my heritage made itself known in my size. I had been brawny enough to hold my own with the strongest of Guardians at Tara, but I had never considered myself a mountain. Unlike Triona, I displayed no unusual magical tendencies. Persuasion and strength weren’t so uncommon. Still, I was desperate enough to listen.

Amanda looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Ben. I don’t like it here.”

I couldn’t allow Amanda to slip away into madness. Anything was better than doing nothing. I took a few measured steps toward Merlin. “How do I open a portal?”

He sniffled dismissively, his eyes darting side to side. I fought the temptation to follow his line of sight—certain whatever he was watching wasn’t really there.

“Tell me,” I demanded.

Merlin jumped, startled, and I worried I was losing him again. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, hoping he’d focus for a few moments longer. Merlin’s serious eyes fixed on mine. I shifted uncomfortably, weighed and measured in his swift appraisal.

“You are of royal blood, mountain. I smell it on you. Your strength pulses in your veins untapped, the blood of the goddess, Danu. Everything seen and unseen is within your command. Call on your blood, mountain, and open the portal.”

“Call on my blood. What does that mean? How do I open a portal?”

It was too late. Merlin’s attention was somewhere else. He poked at thin air in front of his face, mouthing “pop” and “mountain” intermittently. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, attempting to rattle some lucidity from his brain. It was hopeless.

“Urgh,” I growled and slammed my fist into the rock wall. Pain sliced across my knuckles and careened up my arm. My vision blurred and returned to crystal clarity several times.

All three of my companions howled as though they felt it too. Copper mixed with the existing scents in the cave. I stepped back and probed the fresh, bloody wounds in surprise. Apparently, accelerated healing didn’t work here. Crimson liquid seeped from ragged gashes across my knuckles and pain throbbed from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. I wondered if I’d continue bleeding forever in this place. Could I eventually die of blood loss from this small wound? How did it work here? I didn’t intend to stick around and find out. I flexed my hand, checking for any broken bones or serious damage, when movement in the shadows caught my eye. I spun around, panting.

“Who’s there?” There was nothing. Empty air. Then with one final gasp of radiance, Excalibur blinked out.

I crumpled to my knees by Amanda, cupping my hands behind my neck and forcing my breathing to slow. I compelled my mind to clear away the fog. Amanda leaned into me, seeking comfort and reassurance I couldn’t offer. I’d failed her. Because of my fear of losing Amanda, I insisted she come along, and now she was stuck here with me. I wrapped my arms around her and drew her onto my lap.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” I whispered into her hair.

Amanda’s hand stoked mine. I groaned and she pulled back.

“Is that blood?” She couldn’t see me anymore, but it didn’t stop her trying to find my eyes in the dark.

“It’s nothing.” I retracted my hand from hers and kissed her damp hair. “Just a scratch.”

“Why isn’t it healing?” she asked, her eyebrows pulling together.

“I guess wounds don’t close up in here like they do in—” I caught my breath. When Merlin said my strength was in my blood, could he have meant my actual blood rather than my bloodline?

“Amanda, I need to try something. I need you to stay here.”

“No,” she moaned, twisting her fingers into the fabric of my jacket.

“I will be right back. I promise.”

Her lips turned down as she reluctantly let go and allowed me to slide her off my knees. My heart stuttered out several uneven beats when she pulled her legs to her chest and closed her eyes, resting her cheek on her knee. She seemed so tiny and lost, so frail. An almost crippling desire to join her swept through me, a warm breeze of tranquility in total contrast to my other emotions. I bit my lip to distract myself from the conflict, recognizing it as a trick. I understood now. The jet drained the captive and kept them here while the Never turned whatever was left to mush.

A short distance away, Guinevere curled around Excalibur, weeping, and Merlin sat with his legs crossed at the ankle and his head tilted back as though sunning himself.

I rolled my shoulders back and approached the cave wall. If this didn’t work…no, I couldn’t think that way. I touched my fingers to the knuckle of my other hand, smudging blood. The slick substance glided over my skin. Without pondering further, I smeared it over a tiny portion of the wall. Nothing happened, and I stepped back, crestfallen.
What now?

I stumbled a couple of steps and dropped my head into my hands. Was this Guinevere’s fault for suggesting this ridiculous plan, or mine for going along with it?

A sliver of light peeked through my fingers and my head flashed up. It certainly wasn’t a doorway or even a window. However, something happened…and
something
had to be good. A tiny circle of blue light pulsed rhythmically outward from where I pressed my blood to the wall. It was almost what happened when Guinevere touched Excalibur to the same spot. It lacked intensity, then paled and began to disappear.

All of a sudden, exhilaration prickled through my chest. Beads of sweat rolled from my damp hair down the back of my neck, and my hands quaked. I hopped up and down, shaking my arms out and flexing my neck, loosening up the way I used to before a soccer game.

“Call on your blood,” Merlin sang from behind me.

I raised my hand, grimacing at the meager amount of scarlet there. It seemed so much a minute ago but now, entirely inadequate for this purpose. “Here we go,” I muttered to myself and sliced my extended thumbnail along the pad of my other thumb, opening a one-inch gash. “Let’s try this again.”

I repeated my earlier action, this time smearing the blood in a small circle about the diameter of a coffee mug and waited. It happened faster this time. The stone shimmered blue and rippled outward.

“Ha-ha. Yes!” I jumped and pumped my fist in the air at the sight of the small window to our world. It was far too small to fit my hand through and like peering through glass, or maybe water, but it was certainly a start. Beyond the window, stars sprinkled the night sky, pinpricks of white over navy velvet. It appeared this place couldn’t hold royal blood, and I was never so grateful for mine.

I bounded over to Merlin and captured his face in my hands. “Magic man, you crazy old coot, you did it!”

He gasped and spluttered in disgust when I planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. I didn’t care.
We’re getting the hell out of Dodge
.

Amanda perked up, as did Guinevere, and a very light sheen once again coated Excalibur’s blade.

“Ben.” Amanda pointed to the small circle in the wall where I caught a glimpse to the outside.

The portal was closing.

“Everybody up. Right now,” I yelled. “I have no idea how this works so we have to hurry, okay?”

Amanda lumbered to her feet as Merlin lithely bounced from the boulder and scooped Guinevere up by her arm. His movements were disconcerting for a crazy old fool.

“I’m ready to leave, mountain.”

Guinevere shrugged him off and scrubbed her hands over her face. I prepared myself to slash my palm with my nail, trusting it would be enough.

“Ready?”

Amanda dipped her head once, smoothing her hand over my arm as the other two watched in fascination. I gritted my teeth to distract from the pain. Then I drew my nail deeply through my flesh, from the base of my index finger to just above my wrist, trailing a line of searing fire.

Blood pooled in my palm but not fast enough, so I squeezed my hand a couple of times to get the blood really pumping. As soon as I was satisfied, I began daubing the wall with red and smearing the blotches together, forming a rough approximation of a doorway.

Merlin smirked and fidgeted, so close his stinking breath made me gag. I spread my arms wide, keeping them back as my blood went to work, forming a portal to home. As before, the rock face before us shimmered and ripples of luminous blue emanated outward. They grew wider until the portal was large enough for a small human to fit through its glassy surface. I didn’t wait for it to reach full size or touch the ground, unsure how long we’d have. Beyond the portal, lay the patchwork fields around Cadbury Castle.

I grabbed Guinevere first, selfishly aware she was a test dummy of sorts, and shoved her through the portal. She tumbled out the other side gracelessly with Excalibur still clutched in her hand. She sheathed the sword straightaway and beckoned the next person to follow. Her dry lips moved mutely, and her hands rolled toward herself.

I caught Amanda’s arm but she pushed me away. “No,” she stated, fear lancing her tone. “What if you get trapped here? We go through together or not at all.”

“We don’t have time to argue,” I said, exasperated, eyeing the hole as it struggled to push wider. I presumed it had reached maximum size. Any second it would begin to shrink and might never reopen. What if the magic was a living thing as Merlin suggested. Perhaps it could adjust to trap us again. My next bloodletting might produce nothing more than a fancy light show.

“Then stop wasting it. Send Merlin though.”

I groaned and jostled him in front of us. “You’re up, magic man.”

Merlin bounced from foot to foot and rubbed his hands with a gleeful joy. I pushed hard, and Merlin fell through as the portal began to contract. On the other side, Guinevere helped him to his feet and moved him aside. The portal had already pulled in several inches on every side.

“You have to go now.”

“We go together,” Amanda pressed, insistent and more herself than she’d been for hours. Her wide eyes warned me not to test her on this, and she seized my bloody hand with all her remaining strength.

I curved my other arm under her knees. She yelped in surprise when I swung her up, at the same time pressed my forehead to hers. An excited tremor swept the length of her body, and she laced her fingers behind my neck and ducked her head to my shoulder.

My lungs seized as my body resisted going through. Invisible tendrils wrapped around my legs, tethering me to the spot as I watched the portal shrink—a final defense against escaping the cave. I had pushed Guinevere and then Merlin. Now, I had to battle my own way through.

A rumble began in my chest and forced its way up. Every muscle in my body tightened and flexed. I sank into a crouch, Amanda in my arms. Concentrating on the vanishing portal, retracting more by the second, I released everything I had with a growl. I vaulted from the cave floor, through the portal, shattering the silence I perceived while inside, and landed several feet away.

I fell to my knees immediately, although passing through wasn’t as painful this time, maybe because we went through faster. I wasn’t about to complain. Amanda curled into my chest for a hug.

“Promise me we never have to do that again.” She laughed in relief. “Caves are so off our vacation to-do list in the future.”

I choked out a laugh too and brushed my blood-splattered hand over her cheek. Back in our reality, the wound itched where the flesh was knitting, and Amanda met my lips with enthusiasm.

Chapter 14

The War Hound

“I
S
T
HAT
A H
ORSE
?” Amanda asked.