Shades of Avalon (30 page)

I didn’t doubt he desired the Stone and what that entailed, but that wasn’t enough for him. It wasn’t his end game. I saw through his lies. He wouldn’t care if we attacked and killed every individual with him, as long as he got away. There was more where they came from. It was what Eila said about our own kind being afraid of us. Zeal craved that. He wanted our kind to turn on us, to turn to him as leader.

I retreated a couple of feet, dragging both Emma and Amanda with me. Neither gave much argument, if they noticed. From here I had a better view of Triona. Archú snarled and barked, his front legs bowed out and his back legs flexed. Like Triona, Annice had lowered into a crouch, and her weapon lay discarded on the grass. Samuel remained standing beside her, although clearly livid and exerting great effort to hold back. Joshua mirrored his father, with Eila’s usual serene face contorted into a sneer. Arthur and Guinevere were the only ones remaining calm and grounded, at least judging by outward appearances. Perhaps their poise came from numerous times facing battle together in the past.

Guinevere wound her long fingers around the hilt of Excalibur and drew it slowly from the scabbard by her side to a chorus of yelps and roars. Both John and Merlin tugged at Triona, in a futile attempt to gain her attention, all the while Zeal inched closer, provoking her into action. Caleb just hung there, limp as a rag doll.

Another flash of lightning struck the earth behind Zeal’s entourage, forcing them closer. Triona wrenched away from John and sprang high into the air.

“Holy shit!” Emma exclaimed, still clutching her bow and arrow in a nocked position, the bowstring stretched and ready for release.

The next moments happened at blinding speed, yet everything around me slowed to a sort of warped slow motion where colors blended and reality twisted. Triona flew forward as graceful as a cat, complete with claws and bared teeth. Rain lashed down and glittered like droplets of glass around her. In the darkness and soaring several feet above the ground, Triona could easily have been mistaken for a creature hardly human at all.

Conflicting instincts swelled up inside me, tearing me in two different directions so fiercely that my entire body shook from it. Blood scorched through my veins and corroded any sense of reason from my mind.
Attack,
the voice in my head screamed. Just as loudly it screamed,
Protect
.

Zeal reacted as expected, sinking down to spring into the air, ready to fight my sister again. His arrogance was astounding. She’d put him down once already. His group drew back too, ready to shoot forward, and in the exact instant, so did ours. I had no choice. To run would’ve been to fight my own nature. I had to believe I could do both—attack and protect.

But before I lifted one foot from the ground, a powerful pulse of energy knocked me sideways. Emma and Amanda tumbled into me, and I heard the low ping of Emma’s bowstring accidentally releasing. At first I thought it was a gust of wind, something brought on by Triona. My hair whipped back and excruciating pain ripped through my ears. The flesh on Emma’s face rippled. Arthur spun around to us placing himself between Guinevere and Emma, and the source of the energy wave. I reached out to grasp Amanda by her arm but caught the sword she held. The blade carved into my palm.

Something gray with patches of bright, iridescent green and purple flapped into the air. At first, I mistook it for sheets of leather and plastic elevated by wind. Even my paranormal brain rushed to catch up with my eyes and ears. The shape was animated and aware of its movements, swishing a scaly tail away from Samuel’s awestruck features. Somewhere I heard panicked screams. Not from our side though. They came from too far away.

The beast was easily the size of a large man. Its stout body swooped into the air. When extended, its wings were twelve feet wide with and reminded me of a webbed claw. They seemed as twin kites picked up by a gust before the creature somersaulted, returning to the ground in a nosedive.
Was it an actual dragon?
It certainly matched what I had always imagined.

Both Triona and Zeal dropped to the ground like rocks, separated by the creature. It opened its brutal jaw as it leveled out, revealing double rows of sharp, tiny, pearl white teeth and a dark pink tongue under a long snout. Green fire spewed out accompanied by a howling cry and sent plumes of white stream up from the ground in a line breaking us off from those on the enemy side.

John rushed out, sliding across the mud. He threw Triona over his shoulder and hurried back, standing her on the ground beside him. Triona, too startled to fight him, didn’t react at all. No one charged out to assist Zeal. He scuttled backward on his behind, gaping up at the beast flapping its wings and making a noise like a rattling squawk.

When both sides had returned to their position, the dragon called out again and settled itself at the lakeside, right at the beginning of a charred line cutting across the sopping grass. His wings flattened over his back, and his tail curled in. The creature extended his long regal neck, lifting his snout and blinking.

The rain abruptly halted and clouds retreated as though running away, leaving behind a clear navy sky embroidered with points of bright light casting a whitish glow over the land. I met Triona’s eyes for a heartbeat. She stared back, bemused. Confident she’d regained her calm, I raked wet hair from my face and returned my attention to the dragon observing us as if a teacher presiding over naughty school children.

“What the hell is that?” Amanda moved in close, whispering to me.

The beast’s small triangular ears twitched, and he turned his head as though he’d heard her. Smoke snorted indignantly from his nostrils, and Emma laughed. “It’s Archú.”

Sure enough, the hound was gone, and I scrutinized the beast again. Something about the shape of his head and the fuzzy gray tufts of fur poking through the scales along his spine was familiar. Even the animal’s posture, and the way it settled on the ground, reminded me of a dog.

“It’s not possible,” I murmured, although his name—Hound of Slaughter—made much more sense now. It certainly wasn’t a reflection of his formerly playful temperament.

Guinevere smirked. “I think we’ve firmly established those words have little relevance.” She held her hands up. “Before you accuse, I had no idea. I knew he was special, but this…this is exceptionally unexpected.”

“A trick!” Zeal spluttered, incensed. His words dripped with venom.

Archú puffed out a tiny draft of green flames in his direction, and Zeal flinched.

“Not a trick,” Merlin called out. “This is the beast’s true form. It is the hound which is a trick—a glamour.”

“Let’s get this over with,” John started boldly. “If it’s an exchange you’re after, I’m only too happy to oblige.”

“No!” Emma pitched forward. Arthur restrained her, wrapping his arms completely around her small frame and trapping her.

Zeal tilted his head to the side. His eyes flickered to an almost catatonic Caleb but didn’t linger. A bored countenance replaced his ire.

“I can’t ask you to do this.” Triona faced John in desperation, her cheeks ruddy from tears. Her hair, like gleaming oil, slicked down her spine from rain and dirt.

John frowned, his brown eyes sad. He released a slow breath and cupped Triona’s face in his large hands. “You aren’t asking me to do anything. This is my choice. We’re not ready. We can’t do this without someone getting hurt, or worse. I’m asking you to trust me.”

Her fingers came up and curled around his as she searched his eyes, obviously desperate for answers but unable to ask the questions because of our enemy within hearing distance. Eila and Joshua came nearer. The rest of us followed their lead as John pulled his gaze from Triona, dropping his hands by his side.

Emma sobbed, a gut-wrenching burst of despondency and grief that caused a fissure to open in my heart. She fell into John’s embrace, her bow still clutched in her fist and her knuckles white. “You can’t do this to me. Please, Johnny, you said this wouldn’t happen. You’re all I have. I can’t lose you.”

John drew back and cupped her face in the same way he had Triona’s, forcing Emma to look at him when she tried to jerk away. I understood why she didn’t want to listen. She had to feel as if John was abandoning her, throwing her over to rescue Caleb. Caleb was nothing to Emma—just a guy someone once chose over her brother.

John had planned this all along. He’d said as much and was buying us time so we’d all walk away from this with our lives.

“You have to stick close to Ben,” John insisted, his eyes just a little wild. “He will take care of you. He’ll be your big brother until we can be together again.”

“No,” she wailed, her face scrunched up in a grimace. All her fight and bluster was depleted, leaving the innocence of a child in agony.

My pulse tripped. I wrapped my arms around Amanda by my side and tried to ignore the taste of salt on my tongue. She whimpered into my chest. This was a deadly situation with no immediate way out. Sure we could take some of them down with us, but at what cost? Which of us was I prepared to sacrifice? At least this way, we might stand a chance later. John knew that.

“You sure about this?” I asked.

His eyes glazed, and his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat when he nodded. I studied him closely, watching for any waver. If he doubted himself at all, I’d have stopped him. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself afterward.

John didn’t hesitate. He shook Emma gently by the shoulders, appearing to focus his emotion on her, not what he was about to do.

“I love you, Emma, and I promise you with everything I am that we will see each other again.” His voice cracked.

Amanda tapped my back, and when I dipped my head, I saw her front teeth pressed into the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Air turned to ice in my lungs when her damp eyelashes fluttered and a fat tear rolled over her cheek. She tapped my back again, nudging me toward Emma. I didn’t hesitate.

I had no idea why John had chosen me as Emma’s surrogate brother, but I knew I had to help her now.

I placed my hands securely beneath John’s on Emma’s arms. Annice comforted Triona, standing close by her side, otherwise I thought Triona might move to stop John herself. The instant John broke eye contact with his sister, she became aware of my hold on her and struggled against me as I maneuvered her away.

“Do it,” he ordered.

“Get your rotten paws off me,” she screamed and scratched at my arms with her free hand.

“It will be okay,” John mouthed to her.

“My patience is waning,” Zeal announced. A cocky jerk of his head instructed his man to drag Caleb toward the center line.

Caleb’s feet faltered. He staggered as if inebriated but managed to stay upright. When he neared the line, he squinted at us across the remaining divide. His eyes cleared for a fraction of a second, and I thought I saw him smile. His handler let him go, and Caleb dropped to his knees but didn’t fall over to the ground, although it appeared to take immense determination.

Samuel slapped John lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Save it for the after-party,” John responded in a dry, positive tone.

I held onto Emma, conscious of my strength. A little late, it occurred to me what “do it” meant. I sank into my remaining energy and lowered my mouth next to Emma’s ear. It took effort with her wriggling and her quiver digging into my stomach, keeping me from pulling her fully against me. I thought about what I wanted in that minute and what I really wanted was for Emma to calm.

“Emma, listen to me. You need to relax. Take a breath. Calm down.” I spoke the words clearly and slowly, contemplating my will as I envisioned ribbons of smoke encircling us. She complied faster than I expected, going soft in my arms. Perhaps losing control wasn’t her natural state, and that’s why it didn’t take much effort to bring her out of it.

Amanda curled her arms around both of us, and at once, Emma twirled into her hug, leaving me standing beside them empty handed.

John turned to Merlin. “Don’t let me down.” A hint of nervousness snuck into John’s voice.

Merlin’s brow puckered. “This is the right decision.”

John gave Emma a final, weak smile before he turned away and began moving toward the place where Caleb was still kneeling on the grass, his head lowered.

Zeal’s grin widened and Archú snuffled, settling his snout on his front legs. John walked several unhurried paces before he stopped dead. His shoulders heaved dramatically, and he tilted his head back, staring up at the sky.

“What’s he doing?” I wondered aloud. No one answered.

Then, with a tortured cry, he turned back. A rush of whispers chased over the no-man’s-land between the two groups, like wind rustling through autumn leaves. The hulk guarding Caleb glanced back to Zeal, obviously awaiting instructions. Zeal, with curiosity in his expression, raised a hand telling him to wait.

John’s strides were long and confident, and he crossed the distance in half the time, coming to a halt in front of Triona. She swiped at her crimson cheeks. She had to be confused. She didn’t want Zeal to have John any more than she wanted him to have Caleb. His eyes burned with determination and excitement, more nervous now than when he left. Emma remained silent, maybe suspecting the same thing I did. He hadn’t changed his mind. This was something else.