“I surely hope this works, because those people have all taken fatal radiation doses,” Harper said.
“You’ll make that stuff go away, and everyone will be okay,” Falke said firmly. “Ava, you were supposed to give me your ’stick.”
“Yes, sir.” She handed it over to him. Everyone else had given their comms to Falke for safekeeping. She didn’t tell him about the mental journal, and Ron hadn’t given her secret away.
Falke looked smugly happy with having something he could control, and put her phonestick in a pouch he had in his coat pocket.
The big transports crossed the Severn Bridge and headed off along the M4 at a fast clip. There were scattered refugee tents. Ava wondered why they hadn’t gone to the camp in Cardiff. She’d been told they had over 8,000 in the city. But maybe the folks in the outlying areas were afraid to be in another town—worried it would be attacked. And who could blame them?
Ava was just settling down for a nap in Ron’s arms when she felt it—a huge pulse of hate just ahead of them. She sat up, looking for whatever it was.
“Did you feel it, too?” Falke asked.
“Yes, I—” She started.
The transport in front of them burst into flames. With a thunderous detonation, the vehicle leapt up into the air. It spun around and landed on its side just off to the right of their vehicle.
Ava knew all within were dead.
The windscreen of their SUV fractured, but stayed intact. “Bloody hell!” shouted Paul, slamming on the brakes. He barked something into his mic.
A black panel van raced through the slashing rain down the road ahead of them. She could feel the Helaites. They were angry and disappointed they’d hit the wrong vehicle. No doubt they were trying to figure out how to get to Ava and the others. “They aren’t finished yet.”
The transport behind them swerved around their vehicle and raced ahead. The windows rolled down, and people in body armor with large guns leaned out.
“They’ll not survive that lot!” Paul yelled.
“Don’t be too sure,” Ava said.
He gave her a frightened look.
“I think we should continue to our destination, young man,” Harper said.
“Can’t do that,” Paul said. “I got no escort. No backup. No heavy guns. I can’t protect you, and there’s an ongoing firefight.”
Ron said, “You have us. I’ve been in an actual firefight. I’d rather have these three protecting me than the bunch with the rifles.”
Paul chewed on his lip. No doubt he’d seen the interview the previous night and knew there was something “magical” going on. “Okay. I guess.”
“Although if you have a gun, I’ll be happy to use it in our defense,” Ron said.
Paul handed over his pistol. “My great-grandma was an Obeah woman. But I’d rather trust bullets.” He put the vehicle in gear and headed down the road.
The other SUV veered a couple of times, although it wasn’t clear why. The guards were shooting at something in front of them.
“Are they hitting them?” Harper asked.
Ava could feel the power Morgaine’s women are using. “No. But the Helaites are so busy defending themselves, it’s hard for them to do something to hurt the soldiers. They will, though.”
“How?” Falke asked.
Just then, the black panel van veered off the road and slid into the grass. It stopped, facing the oncoming military transport. The wheels spun uselessly in the mud. The SUV halted, and the soldiers got out, aiming their weapons at the van with its blacked-out windows.
“Pull up beside them,” Ava said.
The guards started firing.
Paul looked back at Ava, concern on his face.
“Please, sir,” Ron said. He trained the pistol on the van.
There was a strange popping sound as they pulled up, and one of the guards went flying high into the air. His lifeless body returned to Earth with a terrible thud. Another guard was propelled backward so far, they couldn’t see him any longer.
Ava said in mindspeech: Falke, Harper, concentrate with me. We can’t let them get away this time! She gathered their powers together in one force.
The sides and roof of the Helaites’ van collapsed.
One of the guards was hit by an invisible shove, but he only staggered backward, and kept firing at the van.
Harder.
Metal squealed as the sides and top of the van caved in.
The guards stepped closer, aiming volley after volley of deadly bullets into the broken vehicle.
More.
The sides of the van were now half of what they had been. The roof had all but caved in.
You have not won, Priestess. The reckoning is yet to come, the head of the Helaites snarled at her in mindspeech.
Bright red and inky black flames erupted from the van. There was a terrible shriek in their minds…and the van collapsed into rubble.
“What the hell was that?” Paul exclaimed.
Ava breathed out, exhausted. She released the link between herself and Harper and Falke.
Ron put down the gun and held her. “Is it over?”
She nodded. “They’re dead.”
“Did we kill them?” Falke asked.
“No. They chose immolation rather than surrender.”
“Tidy of them,” Harper said. “Paul, I think we should continue on. We have an appointment to make.”
Paul spoke into his mic. “They say we should go ahead.”
Eventually, all of them settled down, although Paul still had a death-grip on the wheel. It seemed Ron was making an effort to relax. But he kept watching the scenery, as if expecting the Helaites to pop out from behind a bush.
Something was nagging at Ava’s mind. She went into a meditative state so that it could come to the fore. What is it?
She heard again what the leader of the Bridgewater Helaites said: “You don’t understand what we can do—what we have done. We’ve made it possible for you to be who you are!”
Things had been happening so fast, Ava hadn’t taken the time to think about the encounter. What does that mean?
What did the Goddess meant when She said: I cannot see them or their intentions very well, only the devastating results.
And then it dawned on Ava.
Acid filled her stomach. Sisters, do you see it? The followers of Morgaine are the ones who bombed London! That’s what the Helaite meant when she said they’d made it possible for us to be who we are. Morgaine knew the re-incarnation of Arthur, Merlin, and Anya had returned, and that’s why she destroyed the city—she wanted to bring about the final confrontation.
The Goddess said She couldn’t see what Morgaine and her people were doing, only the “devastating results.” I’ve been wondering why the Goddess didn’t simply stop the nuking of London before it happened. Now I know. Morgaine is something She can’t control or understand. Think about what that means. A deity can’t understand Her own creation? It’s almost as if Morgaine has become…an anti-deity?
Ava’s heart thundered in her ears. That’s why the Goddess doesn’t know if I can defeat Morgaine. She can’t see the outcome! The Goddess doesn’t know if She’s made me strong enough to beat her! What can I do? How can I make this happen?
What Ava wouldn’t do to talk to Ifijioku or Hébé! But there was no one. It was just her, Ron, and Harper.
Ava knew she had to gather all her powers for what was to come. She sank down deep, deep into the inner-most of her consciousness, conserving and building energy.
If only she could have Falke in the Circle, she knew they’d all four be strong enough! But there was no way she could balance him with another adept at that late hour. Somehow, she had to find a way to beat Morgaine. There had to be a way!
A long while later, she heard Harper gasp, “Oh, Goddess!”
Ava opened her eyes and beheld complete desolation. The lush, water-logged byway of Britain had given way to the edge of the London Blast Zone. It was even more terrify
ing than seeing it on the prime minister’s large map. There was nothing but a long, gray-brown, featureless landscape. The great buildings of London were reduced to withered steel branches that extended like pleading, gnarled fingers to the overcast, weeping skies. Not a tree stood, not a bird flew, not a blade of grass showed. Rubble was everywhere. The aura of the land was a deep gray with swirls of black—a place filled with negative energy and death. The big transport carefully wended its way over what was left of the roadway.
It seemed to take forever and no time at all. Ava felt an urge to escape so strong, she could barely repress it. Before the fear enveloped her, she held Ron’s hand. His loving strength anchored her.
She prayed: Help me, Goddess.
Almost immediately, Ava heard: Trust yourself.
I am afraid.
I made you for this moment, Ava-who-is-Anya.
I’m not sure I’m strong enough.
You must be. Each of the others—each one—was made for their part, but in this you must lead and be the fearless one.
Ava wanted to argue. She wanted to beg, plead, complain, demand an alternative. But she knew it was no use. There was only one acceptable reply.
It will be as You command, Goddess.
I will be with you.
Blessed be.
For the first time in her life, Ava didn’t feel reassured by the Goddess, and that frightened her more than anything she had yet encountered.
Ron cleared his throat. “We’re here, Ava.”
Ava opened her eyes. Harper had selected Parliament Hill, because it was a grassy high point in the city. But what they saw was a blasted pile of eroded dirt.
“As a boy, my father took me here to fly kites,” Harper said, with pain and wonder.
“The radiation levels are very high here, so we can’t stay,” Paul said. He handed them special earpieces that were connected to the government’s radio frequency. “You folks have to pull this off, okay? We’re all rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” Ron said, patting him on the arm. “We’ll see you when this is over.”
Harper kissed Falke. “I love you. Be strong for me.”
“Beat that witch, Dad,” he said, his voice breaking.
“Count on it, Falke-boy” Ron said, helping Ava out.
The smell of the dead city was appalling; as if it were all one rotting, muddy corpse. The silence was as profound as death. Only the sound of the SUV racing back away north broke it. A light misty rain oozed out of the sky.
Ron strapped on the great sword and took Ava’s hand. She grabbed Harper’s free hand. Ava felt Anya arise in her, and knew that the others felt King Arthur and Merlin in themselves. The three of them squished up the muddy hill, watched by swarm of camera drones at the top.
Chapter Thirty
The Healing
Soon, the three were drenched, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the circle of eight slender poles at the top of the hill. It felt as if the whole world was holding its breath expectantly to see what they would do. The only sound was their labored breathing.
As they reached the crown of the hill, Ava could feel the effects of the radiation already: she was a little light-headed and headachy; there was a sensation as if she didn’t have enough blood in her body; the remains of the sticky bun tried a few barrel rolls in her stomach. She could tell from Ron’s clenched jaw and the line of sweat sneaking down Harper’s cheek that the others feel the same. It would only get worse. She took deep breaths and applied the Sisterhood training to control her body.
To the east was a small inflatable building where a few technicians in hazmat gear were monitoring the camera equipment. It also housed the Eight Lights crew. Ava looked west—and gasped. Hundreds stood just below the top of the hill, watching them in silence.
“Dear Goddess! Get those people out of here!”
“We don’t have the manpower, Ms. Cerdwen,” replied Ms. Clarke in her earpiece. Clarke and the rest of the government were at the command post miles away. “They know the risks.”
Ava realized the people on the hill were called to witness that moment, as surely as she was brought here. They would stand for all the citizens of Britain, or die, if Ava and the others failed.
Bless them, Goddess, and keep them in Your protection, Ava prayed. She saluted them in the Goddessian way: one hand to her heart, the other stretched forth.
“Duke Drunemeton, we are ten minutes from zero hour,” Littori said in their earpieces.
They chuckled. “I’m fairly sure we’re not going to blast off,” Harper replied.
Ava, Ron, and Harper stepped inside the circle described by the metal poles. Despite the mud and the fine rain, the adepts from Eight Lights had managed to make a creditable depiction of the Druidic Eightfold Wheel in powdered, colored chalk. The mandala design was close enough to one the Sisterhood used that Ava hadn’t asked them to alter it. She led the men to the Summer Solstice section. “Here we will make our stand.”
“Tell us what you want us to do,” Ron said.
“We are prepared,” Harper said.
Ava was covered in goosebumps, and a river of sweat was running down her back. She couldn’t tell if it was the radiation or nerves. Although she felt anxious, she also felt strong. But also, she had this sense of destiny.
This is my time.
This is my path.
The end result of two lifetimes.
And I must not fail.
She watched the priests of Eight Lights take their places at each pole. They were as unprotected from the radiation as Ava and the others were, wearing only blue robes in the rain. They stood with their backs to the sticks that they had placed earlier in the day, looking outward. Each was there to guard the Sacred Circle they’d created from threats within or out. Even if everything went wrong and Morgaine defeated them, these eight would create a psychic containment field, using the specially treated metal of the poles to strengthen their psi power, to keep Morgaine away from twenty-first century Britain.
We think.
We hope.
How long they could they keep Morgaine within the Circle was anyone’s guess. Long enough to get Falke well away, Ava hoped.
Whether they would be aware Morgaine had defeated Ava and the others was an open question.
Four camera drones buzzed around the Circle, beaming the images of what they did there to the world. Ava had no idea if the recording devices would affect the balance of energy, or if they would transmit images of the psychic power that would take place.
Harper removed the Oathstone from the pouch at his belt. That morning, when he took it from the carton, Ava had noticed it was luminescent. Now it glowed like a pearl in moonlight. “The moment is coming, my friend,” Harper said to it.
Ava didn’t need the countdown Littori was giving in her earpiece. She could feel the impending moment in her blood. As noon edged closer, Ava nodded for Harper to step to the center of the circle.
“Time,” whispered Littori in their earpieces.
Harper held the Oathstone and Merlin’s staff up to the pouring sky. Ava could feel the power he was summoning surge up through her feet, to the crown of her head.
“Goddess,” he called out, “this is the moment foretold! We come to do Thy bidding. Make us strong enough to fulfill Thy will!” He placed the Oathstone on small cairn in the center, which the Eight Lights people had constructed. The Oathstone was glowing strongly.
Harper stepped back between Ron and Ava and withdrew the moonlight generator from a pocket in his robe. He turned on the beam and pointed it at the Oathstone.
Ava told Ron, “Place your hand on Harper’s.” As they put their hands on his, Ava could feel Harper trembling.
Ava centered her thoughts in that spot of her powers that belonged to the High Priestess and felt herself become larger; power radiated from her. There was a particular itch-ache-heat on her back.
Ron glanced at her, then did a double take as he saw the great golden wings of th
e High Priestess towering above Ava. Her heart leapt as his eyes filled with wonder, joy, and admiration.
He does not fear me.
Harper saw Ron’s expression and turned. His mouth dropped open, dumbfounded. “Ava?” he whispered. As amazed as he was, he didn’t fear her either.
This is good, because we must trust each other.
“Concentrate on the stone now!” Ava said in her booming priestess voice.
The men turned their attention back to the center of the Circle. The moonlight generator beam hit the Oathstone, and the light from it grew brighter and brighter.
Ava called out: “We bid come the oathtakers of Avalon! Now is the moment! Here is the summons you are pledged to heed! Step forth!”
There was an earsplitting clap of thunder, and a bolt of lightning dashed into the ground in front of them. Out of nowhere, nine women in black cloaks appeared. The woman in the fore of the group was short—she only came up to Ron’s chest. Around her neck was the symbol of her power as Mother Anya noted in her writings: a necklace of gold on which hung a pendant in the shape of a flame. Rubies and yellow topaz lined the fire shape. Even though the sun was dim, the jewel seemed to move and dance in the light like a real flame.
The woman’s fierce black eyes pierced the Circle. “Who calls the oath? Who summons the Oathtaker?” she demanded in ancient Brittonic.
“Morgaine of Avalon, you are called forth by the heirs of Priestess Anya, King Arthur, and Merlin the High Druid,” Ava replied in Morgaine’s tongue. Then she switched to English. “We are well aware you are able to speak in the language of this time. Do so.”
Morgaine walked toward them, looking about. If Ava hadn’t known the ancient priestess was 1,500 years old, she would have sworn she was a well-kept woman in her forties, with a streak of white running to the side of her long black hair. But Morgaine’s psychic presence was huge—as if her physical self was a doll walking inside of a giant. A great black and red aura shimmered around her—powerful negative energy. She glared out at the rubble that was London. “What has occurred here? What caused this devastation? This smell of death? What have you people done to my land?”
The Midsummer Wife (The Heirs to Camelot Book 1) Page 26
