Legend of the Lakes

by Clara O'Connor

  He put the glass back on the table and returned to lap up the escaped droplets.

  “Tell me,” he growled.

  Could I tell him? Could I explain the feeling of wellbeing that surged through me? The balance, the sheer enormity of emotion? It was astounding. I felt so alive.

  “I feel amazing,” I confessed. “I feel like me. I don’t know how to explain it.” But I wanted to try, I owed it to him to try. “It feels like I’m in colour again.” That I’m whole again. Sometimes I feel like I’m a thin, pale ghost in a boat, tied to the shore by a thread. A thread you hold.

  But I wasn’t brave enough to tell him. How could I tell him that? He didn’t owe me anything; he had already done so much. I didn’t want him to know how badly I needed him, the miracle of how much better I felt right now because he had pulled me back.

  I examined my emotions. Was I totally stable? I thought so. I still wasn’t sure what this was though.

  “Good,” he said, satisfied, wrapping himself back around me.

  “Why are you doing this?” Gideon had made his dislike of me clear, that he neither trusted nor wanted me near him, nor near the daughter I had abandoned. What had changed?

  “Maybe I’ve just decided to embrace my fate.”

  And that was it. He said no more on it, but the next day we woke up together and the next night became the first of many such nights. Nights that warmed and restored me.

  Chapter Ten

  I looked up from the book I was reading, curled up in the window seat in Gideon’s room, a smile of greeting already playing on my lips. I had seen him crossing the courtyard below a few minutes ago – he must have come directly here. He leaned down and tousled Féile’s curls where she sat on the floor, concentrating fiercely on her latest multi-hued creation.

  His lips touched mine in a promise I was never going to get tired of. My hand went around his neck and held him to me when he would have kept it light and sweet.

  “Ew.” I pulled away, the evidence of hard training lingering in his silky, wet hair and damp skin. He leaned further in, bringing us cheek to bristly cheek, rubbing against me in payback. He smelled of salt and leather. I inhaled, even as I laughingly pushed him off.

  I shooed away the servants who brought the urns of water and helped him unfasten the leather body armour he wore.

  “Anything good?” he asked, nodding at my abandoned book.

  “It’s a bit hard going,” I admitted. Callum had brought volumes back from Oxford, from ancient to more recent studies on the ley lines that ran under the land. They all held theories on the corruption of the lines and why magic was waning in the blood. He also had some dedicated volumes that House Glyndŵr had unearthed on the Lake bloodline and the Griffin protectorate. Gideon had read them but I hadn’t yet. “A lot of stuff about telluric currents and electromagnetic grids and equinox lines. I’m not sure whether I’m under-educated in physics, magic, astronomy, or geography. It seems obvious that stresses on the lines caused by human contamination like technology are seeping through the earth and corrupting the— What’s this?”

  I traced the red mark blooming along his ribs.

  “Hmm?” He glanced down. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Young Robbie is getting better with a sword; he got one past me today.”

  I frowned at the mark. Who was young Robbie? I was embarrassed to ask. All too often I was caught out by gaps in my knowledge, things which everyone presumed I knew that I had been too indifferent to take note of before. And if I was honest, I was so focussed on, well, my new family and solving the problem of the ley line now to be able to pay attention to anything else. I would have to go back out soon. The longer I left it the worse it would be. I looked down to find my fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the now all but disappeared bruise on Gideon’s skin.

  His dark hair fell over his shoulder as he too noticed the faded mark. His amber eyes were warm as he lifted my hand and kissed my open palm. How had I done that? I ground my teeth. I hadn’t even thought about it and poof! Hocus pocus! I smiled at the memory of Devyn’s face the day I had described the gifts of magic that way.

  I slipped away from Gideon and went back to my spot in the window. What would Devyn think of this? Of us? Would he be glad? Angry? There had been no love between them, but I had to believe that he would… I let my hot forehead rest against the cooling glass. What could I know about Devyn’s views on this? On anything? I hadn’t known him, not really. I had been his mission, and once complete he had left me.

  I looked up to find the Anglian warrior watching me in return. His expression was solemn before he returned to the job of wiping away the efforts of the day. I flashed him a small smile and returned to my study.

  The books suggested that the nodes were where the energy flowed into the lines, which was why the ancients had built monuments atop them – stone circles, places of worship that centred and gathered the power before it flowed on. The main lines crossed through significant sites across the land. We had practically followed one that cut from Londinium to Oxford to Dinas Emrys, where the druids from Anglesey had now retreated to, in Cymru.

  The Cern line, which ran from the eastern edges of the Mediterranean to the southwest islands of Eireann, intersected the May line at the tip of Kernow. Both lines were corrupted. Kernow had been forced to abandon its capital, Penzance, in favour of the ancient castle of Tintagel as the land began to fail.

  The May line ran along a large section of the border between the Empire and Anglia. I wondered if the same was true in other parts of the world, if the boundaries between the technologically advanced Empire and the old ways were held by the lines of power that crisscrossed the earth. Was it more than mere coincidence that the May line was where the war had been fiercest? Crossing the borders under which it ran had deeply affected me and those with whom I had travelled.

  There was another line further south that exited the Shadowlands at Stonehenge, crossing the May line at Glastonbury, but little was known of it because east of that the territory it ran through had been held by the Romans for most of the island’s recorded history. This was the line that seemed most damaged.

  But we knew so little of it. The barrier at the Tamesis had suffered tech fluctuations, as had Richmond. Perhaps it came close to the surface near those places. But without access to examine the line more closely, I found more questions than answers.

  A small figure inserted itself between me and my books, little fingers reaching up to smooth the furrow from my brow as solemn eyes locked with mine – big doe eyes that broke my heart. Satisfied with her work, she turned around and presented her back to me. I had seen her do this to Gideon and her nurse a thousand times. I had even seen her stand just so in front of Rion at his big desk. She was shameless in her demand for adults to be put to use and read for her.

  She occasionally came to me for a cuddle, but it had not escaped me that it was always when we were in company, and she felt most secure. My heart stopped as I looked up to find that we were alone. Gideon must have left the room while I was reading.

  I gently put my hands to her middle and hoisted her onto my lap. I held my breath to see if I had interpreted her correctly. She turned her head towards me as I failed to start reading.

  “Book.”

  I let out a small laugh. “Maybe not this one, darling.”

  I pushed the tome Callum had borrowed from Oxford out of the way and reached for one of the children’s books haphazardly stacked on a corner of the table. There were several such piles in areas of the castle that the family commonly used. I picked up one I knew she had only been given at Yuletide.

  I read to her as I had seen Gideon do, putting voices and drama into it. If I could impress upon her my abilities then maybe this would happen again. The feel of her body tucked against mine was simply the most heart-burstingly wondrous thing I had ever experienced in my life. I tucked my head against her curls, to see the bottom lines of the page, her hair tickling the skin under my chin. She smelt
of Elsa’s lavender soap and brisk air and pine cones and little girl. Her heart was a pitter-pat against my chest, her weight on my lap so singularly satisfying that it felt as if my whole life centred on this moment. How had I lived so long without this?

  The spell was broken as the door opened and Gideon came back in.

  “Dada!” She popped up and ran into his arms.

  The knot in my throat was tender as I swallowed, biting my lip to keep the tremble from showing. She had come to me of her own volition.

  Gideon lowered himself into his customary chair, my giggling daughter in his arms, flushed and delighted at his appearance now that she was no longer engaged in her colouring.

  “Was Mama reading to you?” he asked her as he held her over his head.

  She nodded, squirming delightedly.

  He pulled her down to face him.

  “Was she as good as me?” he asked her fiercely.

  “Yes!” She laughed at his antics.

  He pulled a shocked face.

  “Was she better than me?”

  “Yes.” She cracked up, giggling at his dismay.

  “What!” He growled. “Oh, how fickle is woman.”

  He laughed as he attacked her, tickling her in revenge at being cast aside. His eyes lifted to share the mirth with me but I was halfway out the door. I couldn’t breathe. He had called me Mama and Féile had known he meant me. My head was swirling, the emotion making me lightheaded. I ran out of the room, unsure if I was doing so for their safety or for my own. They were making a place for me and I didn’t think I would survive if I lost it again.

  I felt incandescent, as if I would float away. I walked quickly through the hallways until I was outside and could turn my face up to the sky and feel the cool breeze on my face.

  “Catriona.” A careful voice called from behind me. I stilled, drawing in a deep breath, attempting to centre myself. They couldn’t see me like this. I’m pretty sure my emotions were continuously monitored – Callum, Rion, even Oban always studying me to assess whether I was too low or too high.

  “Rion,” I responded without turning around. I just needed a minute.

  “Are you well?”

  He must have seen me. Why did he have to follow?

  “I’m fine,” I said, turning and casting him what I hoped passed for a stable smile.

  His brow rose as if he was going to challenge my statement. I wondered if I looked as scattered as I felt.

  His assessment was lingering and, based on his raised eyebrow, he was unconvinced.

  “I just…” How to explain, so I didn’t come across like a madwoman? They would limit my access if they felt I was spinning too high again. I bit my lip and willed my heart to slow down.

  “I’ve never really had a family,” I started, immediately stopping as his face shuttered. Of all the people to use that line on. I winced.

  “I mean, I’ve never known…” I clammed up again. I had never truly felt loved by the mother who had raised me, and I had only tasted in a vision the love our mother had felt for me. Rion had been older than me when she died, had some memories of our mother, and by all accounts our father had loved him. He had just loved too much. Had been broken by our mother’s death.

  Rion waited for me to find the words I was so badly attempting to produce.

  I breathed a laugh at my own witlessness.

  “Féile asked me to read to her,” I finally said, shrugging, but I could see the understanding in his eyes. He recognised the milestone for what it was. This was epic. I had abandoned her and frightened her, and for her to show signs of accepting me was a miracle of bravery and trust for a two-year-old child.

  I also really wanted to tell him that Gideon had called me Mama and she had acknowledged me as such, but I was already inwardly cringing at how pathetic that sounded, even as my vision blurred with tears of sheer joy.

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face though, and there was an answering one on my brother’s.

  “That’s good. She needs her mother.” It could have sounded patronising, but somehow it didn’t. We had come a long way since we had diagnosed the effect the ley lines were having on me.

  “How was it for you… after she left?”

  He paused before he answered – the only sign of his surprise at my showing interest in him, in his story. It had been three years and I rarely showed any sign that I recognised him as my brother. Much less that my pain at my lack of family, at the loss of the childhood that might have been, was his pain, his loss, too.

  He indicated that we should walk through the garden, and I fell into step beside him.

  “She was a force to be reckoned with,” he began, with a slight smile tugging at his lip in remembrance. “Always calm, always controlled, everything ran according to her will.”

  Well, that didn’t sound like me, but was not unlike Rion himself, I thought.

  “Father was the heart, all heart. He didn’t agree with her leaving that last time. I was barely five and I remember him yelling at her, but nobody gainsaid Mother when she was set on something… not unlike you.” He smiled.

  My eyes widened in surprise at this. The reference was light, but I knew he was raising the ghost that always stood between us: his edict, my defiance… all that had ended in Devyn’s death.

  “I should have known better. Father’s heart and Mother’s will wrapped up in a single being. I saw it and—” He stopped in the path and turned to face me.

  This conversation was long overdue, but my head felt like it would explode as it came on top of the morning’s events. I pushed through the kaleidoscope in my brain, reaching for something to say that would convey, if not my complete forgiveness, then at least that I too wanted to build a bridge.

  “It was my fault. If I had been stronger, I could have stopped them.” I was horrified at the words tumbling out of my mouth. That was not what I had intended to say.

  He blinked. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what he had expected either. The last time we had spoken on this topic, I had made it pretty clear that had he dealt the blow himself, that he couldn’t have been more to blame.

  “I know you wanted to do what was best for the country. As it turns out, your brother-in-law would have been a huge traitor, but that aside…” I waved off Marcus’s betrayal flippantly. “You must have been so disappointed when you met me. If I had been better, stronger, had more control, then none of it would have mattered. You wouldn’t have needed to marry me to an ally. If I had the power of a true Lady of the Lake I would have been enough.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face.

  “Catriona.” His voice was anguished. “You aren’t… Mother wasn’t as strong as everyone believes. The power has been waning for years. We’ve hidden it. Only our family and the Griffins knew it, but you are no less than our mother was.”

  “No, that’s not true, she was trained from birth, maybe I’ll never be… I can tend the line but what use is that if we are attacked again?” Perhaps he didn’t realise how bad the situation really was. “Callum… Callum has been trying to help me. He knew her, he knew our mother, and he said she was incredibly powerful.”

  Rion shook his head. “Callum was a tutor here, from the House of York. He knew very little about what abilities our mother did or didn’t have.”

  My mind boggled at this. I had spent the last few years killing myself to live up to the promise of my legacy, a promise that he was now telling me was wildly exaggerated.

  “You mean that she wasn’t stronger than me?” I asked.

  His lips pursed and he gave a slight shrug. “I was young, and there was little need for battle-level powers because we lived in peacetime. Like you, she tended the ley; she and Rhodri were close, so I have no memory of her ever being affected as you are. But you seem better now,” he prompted.

  “I am.” At his command, the weaker side of me whispered.

  “You and Gideon seem better,” he tried again. What was he looking for? Surely he already knew ex
actly how we were.

  “You would know.”

  His eyes flicked towards me. A horrified expression showed there and his brows almost hit his hairline.

  “I most certainly would not.”

  The flush that started at my toes took its sweet time to recede again.

  “Was it your idea?” I could have bitten out my tongue, but at least my colour was already high, my mortification already at full strength. But I had to know.

  “Was what my idea?” He looked genuinely baffled.

  “For Gideon to come and live here,” I gabbled quickly, realising I did not want him to figure out what I was asking. When I had come back to myself, Gideon had been a lifeline, one I had grabbed with both hands. I knew why I was with him, but increasingly I felt curious about him. He had married me at Rion’s command and saved my life. He had saved it again, and the thought that we shared a bed at his king’s command was not one I contemplated often, but I would be lying to myself if I said it never crossed my mind. I couldn’t bear to hear the answer. Not now, maybe not ever, coward that I was. I had tried to ask, but Gideon had avoided answering the question. Perhaps that was for the best. “When he left York?”

  “Ah, no. In fact, he couldn’t have arrived at a worse time. My father had died a couple of years earlier, and I was barely coping. I was struggling to master the elements. When I lost my temper, I would randomly absorb magical energies. The court was sure he was a spy for his father, here to assess how susceptible to attack we were.” He swooped to pick up a stone before skimming it across the great pond at the bottom of the garden. It pulled low across the water, skipping off the surface several times before finally succumbing to the forces of gravity and sinking into the water.

  I waited for him to continue as he scoured the ground for another suitable stone, his powerful frame bending to pick one up. It was difficult to picture him a lost and erratic teenager; he was always so kingly.