The Forever Queen (Pendragon Book 2)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  “And what did she tell him?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

  He smiled grimly. “That Rome would burn.”

  I swallowed. “And the last dragon? What is his gift?”

  “He alters the way he is perceived. He bends men’s minds so that they see him exactly as he wishes to be seen.”

  I didn’t like that idea. He could be right in front of me and I wouldn’t know it.

  “How can I stop him if I can’t even see him for what he is?”

  “There might be a way. There might be something that could help you. You must find Lancelot’s ring.”

  My blank expression must have given away my ignorance because he sighed in frustration.

  “Didn’t Merlin teach you anything?”

  I lifted one shoulder in a passable copy of one of Lance’s shrugs. “I was a little too busy trying to escape from Wraiths and a lot of other things that wanted to kill me.”

  He didn’t dignify that with an answer. “The Lady of the Lake gave to Lancelot a ring of ancient power. Forged by the Fair Folk themselves, or so it is believed. It had the power to allow the wearer to see through enchantments and spells. It was called the Ring of Dispel.”

  “Pretty lame name,” I muttered, but inside I could feel a seed of excitement begin to grow. It could be useful, very useful. If nothing else it might stop people putting visions in my head – and that was getting pretty annoying.

  “Where is it?”

  He spread his hands. “No one knows.”

  Chapter Eight

  I left the meeting almost immediately. I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to be, and they didn’t have the information about Lance I’d been hoping for. The information had been useful, but had it been worth exposing myself to them?

  Mackay tried to protest, asking how I planned on getting home – but he didn’t know Sam was waiting for me up on the cliffs, dozing behind the wheel of her car. She’d parked a distance away from Mackay, at the far end of the castle carpark.

  She woke with a jerk when I pulled open the passenger door and flung myself into the seat.

  “Home?” She seemed to sense that I wasn’t quite ready for questions.

  I tugged on the seat belt and nodded. “Thanks for doing this.”

  She patted my knee and turned the key. The car rumbled to life but she didn’t speak until we’d gotten back onto the main roads. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  I shook my head, then realised in the dark car she wouldn’t see me. “Not yet. I’ll only have to repeat myself when we get back.” I sunk lower into the seat and Sam seemed to realise I wasn’t going to say anything else. She cranked up the sound on the radio, and left me to my brooding. I felt a tiny bit guilty, after all, she’d just driven all night just to help me out, but I needed to get my thoughts in order before I spoke to anyone.

  I wondered what the Order of Camelot had really expected to happen at this meeting. Did they think that I would have begged them to put me on the throne? I didn’t think so. Or at least that wasn’t what Thomas had been expecting. I didn’t know what his plan was, but I wanted to trust him. If only because I couldn’t afford to have any more enemies. The other members of the Order had seemed overwhelmed in my presence. Not one of them had said a word the entire time I’d been there. Perhaps they really had begun to believe I was just a story, a legend passed down through the generations, but nothing more. Not Thomas though, he believed. There was a fanatical fire in his eyes that I’d noticed the moment he first saw me. For that reason I sincerely hoped I could work around him, not against him.

  Dawn came as we reached the edge of town, the horizon turned steely grey by the rising sun. I couldn’t deny it, my home was beautiful. The pale light illuminated the mist from above and it glowed. The moors rose around us, growing lighter by the moment as we drove.

  I couldn’t go home yet, I was supposed to be staying at Sam’s for the night, but as we pulled up outside her large detached house I knew I couldn’t just go to bed either.

  “Are you all right?” Sam asked finally as she cut the engine.

  I flexed my fingers against my knees and sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.” I glanced up at her. “I know my life hasn’t ever been exactly normal, but now I feel like I’m stumbling from one unbelievable situation to the next.”

  “It is all pretty unbelievable.”

  I laughed at Sam’s wry tone.

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you even believe all of this?”

  She laughed. “If you’d just told me about this all, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. I’d probably be telling the school they need to have you sectioned. But I saw that ogre. That’s not the sort of thing you can ignore. Plus, there’s Wyn and Percy. They’re as far from normal as it’s possible to get.”

  I snorted, but then grew more serious. “Thank you,” I said again.

  “For driving all the way to bloody Cornwall? Yeah, you owe me.” I glanced up at her and she sighed. “You’re welcome. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to keep all this inside. But what now?”

  “Now? Now somehow I have to find Lance’s ring.”

  “But how will you even know where to start?”

  I smirked and pointed through the windshield, where a battered car had just pulled to the kerb. “We start with them.”

  Ten minutes later Sam bravely snuck us all up into her bedroom. Not that her parents would have heard anything judging by the snoring coming from their room, but I doubt they would have been impressed by her coming home in the early hours of the morning with two strange men in tow.

  We just reached her door when she froze, glancing up at Wyn and Percy.

  “Just – uh – give me one minute.” She opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through then closed it tight behind her.

  Wyn cocked one eyebrow at me and I stifled a giggle.

  “It’s a girl thing,” I mouthed, and I knew I was right when Sam finally let us into the room and I saw the strap of a bra still hanging out of hastily closed drawer.

  I caught her eye and we both giggled. The normality of it felt more surreal than anything else in my life.

  Sam’s room was a lot bigger than mine, and so she’d managed to convince her parents to buy her a double bed. I remembered her bragging about it in school a few years back. The covers were bright purple, like almost everything else in the room. The evidence of the girl I’d been friends with years ago was still there; a shelf of dusty stuffed animals, and a row of faded rosettes from various horsey events. The wardrobe was mirrored, making the room seem even bigger than it was, and I couldn’t help laughing when I caught sight of Wyn checking himself out in it as he strode over to the swivel desk chair. He gave it a 360 degree spin then glared at me.

  “So?”

  “So?” I repeated, settling onto the bed and grabbing one of the huge fluffy pillows as a kind of shield.

  “So what the hell happened?” He glanced guiltily at the door and then dropped his voice. “Spill.”

  I hesitated. To be honest I hadn’t found out as much as I would have liked and I wasn’t sure what I had found out had been worth exposing myself to the Order of Camelot for. Not that I was going to admit that to Wyn, not after he’d been so dead set against it in the first place. There was the information about the ring though. Was that worth it?

  “What do you know about Lance’s ring?” I asked at last.

  Percy frowned up at me from where he’d sprawled on the floor. “The Ring of Dispel?”

  I nodded eagerly.

  Wyn and Percy exchanged looks but it was Wyn who replied.

  “I never saw much of it. I don’t know if anyone did. But we all heard the stories about it. He told me once that the Lady gave it to him, but there were rumours – “

  “That he got it from Guinevere?”

  I glared at Sam, sat next to me on the bed.

  “How could you know that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t.
I just figured it would be the kind of rumour that would spread. I bet people gossiped as much back then as they do now.”

  I rolled my eyes at her but Wyn sighed.

  “She’s right. Unfortunately, Lance was not as subtle as he might have thought about his obvious attraction to the Queen. There were many rumours, including one that the ring had been a token from the Queen, which was why he never wore it openly.”

  I fought down an irrational surge of jealousy. I knew those rumours weren’t true, because Lance had told me the true story. Lancelot had never been in love with Guinevere, he’d been in love with me, her great-times-a-thousand-granddaughter. We just happened to look a lot alike apparently. This wouldn’t have been a problem if Vivian, the Lady of the Lake’s sister, hadn’t sent me back to the time of King Arthur for a month.

  I swallowed that thought as well. That month had been one of the best of my life – even if it had been the worst possible timing. I would never have allowed myself to fall in love with Lance if not for the time I’d shared with Lancelot, if I hadn’t had the chance to reconcile them into the one man.

  Unfortunately it had ultimately complicated things. Lancelot had fallen in love with a girl he could never have, and he blamed his later actions involving Guinevere for the downfall of Camelot. As for me, I blamed Vivian and myself. But mostly Vivian.

  “Cara?”

  I started and realised Wyn had been talking to me.

  “I said.” He made a face at me. “That obviously I know that rumour isn’t true now. Which means the Lady did give it to him.”

  “Which I always said seemed more likely,” Percy interjected. “After all, where would Guinevere has gotten a ring that powerful from?”

  “It was powerful then? What did it do?” Sam sat forward, leaning her elbows on her knees, eyes alight with curiosity.

  Wyn turned his attention from me to Sam, rolling his chair forward until he could lean his elbows on the bed too, bringing them face to face.

  “Incredibly so. It was called the Ring of Dispel because supposedly it had the power to see through enchantments and illusions, to dispel magic from the wearer. And I’m not just talking about magic from magicians and wizards like Merlin. I mean even the magic of the Fair Folk. Yet as far as I know he only used it the once. On one quest.” He paused and glanced quickly at me before continuing.

  “Guinevere had been taken prisoner by a little lordling who sought to defy Arthur. She had been travelling to visit her family when she was taken. Lancelot was always the greatest of us, even though I hate to admit it, and so it’s unsurprising that he and I were the ones chosen to rescue the Queen. Arthur would have gone himself, but he didn’t dare leave Camelot. He was still in the early part of his reign and his alliances were unstable. And so Lancelot and I set forth. I will spare you all the details, it was a long and treacherous journey, but where the ring comes in is when we came to a wide river. There was only one bridge for miles in either direction. They called it the sword bridge. Not hard to see why. It was as thin and sharp as the blade of a sword; no one would be able to cross it without falling, or cutting themselves to ribbons. And if anyone did succeed. Well, two manticores waited on the far bank-“

  “Manticores?” Sam interrupted.

  Wyn smiled. “Creatures of the old magic. Bodies of lions with the tails of scorpions. Vicious, but not common, at least not in Albion in those days. I told Lancelot we should go in search of a different bridge, but we knew there were none for miles and he didn’t want to delay. He tried twice to cross the bridge, injuring himself badly in the process, before he thought of the ring. He wore it on a chain around his neck in those days, not wanting to wear it openly. He slipped the ring on his finger and was able to see that everything that lay before us was simply an illusion. The bridge was narrow and thin to be sure, but not so thin as to be impassable, and the manticores didn’t exist at all.”

  “But he’d cut himself on the bridge…”

  Wyn gave Sam a wry smile. “The old magic is more powerful than you can imagine. Even an illusion can hurt you if it seems real enough.”

  Sam had leant forward, until she was almost nose to nose with Wyn, and for a moment they only stared at each other. She giggled and backed away blushing.

  I cleared my throat. “Anyway.”

  If I wasn’t almost certain Wyn didn’t know how to do it, I’d have sworn he blushed a little too.

  “Yes, the ring.”

  “Where is it now?”

  He spread his hands hopelessly. “For all I know Lancelot has it with him in Avalon.”

  “If that’s the case then it’s lost to us.” Percy glanced at Wyn and me.

  I frowned. “I don’t think so. The night we stayed in Cardiff, when Lance came out of the shower – he wasn’t exactly wearing a lot.” I ignored the amused look Wyn was giving me and the ‘I smell gossip’ look on Sam’s face. “He didn’t have any jewellery on. I know he didn’t wear a ring, and he certainly didn’t have it around his neck.”

  “Would you have noticed if he did?” Wyn asked with a grin.

  I lobbed a pillow at him. “Honestly. He didn’t have any jewellery. Besides the only things the three of you had was what Merlin had given Nimue for safe keeping. Would he have known to give her the ring?”

  “I doubt it,” Percy said thoughtfully. “Lance only used it that once, and he spent the last years of his life at Joyous Gard. The ring was most likely there when he died.”

  I shuddered. I hated being reminded that Lance had lived a whole life, and died before Merlin had reunited him with me. I tried not to think about it.

  “So where would the ring be now?”

  Wyn shrugged.

  We stayed at Sam’s all day, hiding out in her bedroom. Luckily, or not in a way, her parents didn’t seem to care much about where she was. Yet as blasé as they seemed about her life I didn’t think they’d be too impressed if they’d found Wyn and Percy in her room. Well, Percy not so much, but there wasn’t a parent in the world who would want their teenage daughter hanging around with someone like Wyn. Even if Sam had turned eighteen now.

  She snuck downstairs once and came back up with what looked like almost the entire contents of her fridge. Percy looked for a moment like he wanted to kiss her as she handed him a giant bag of peanut M&Ms.

  The conversation went round in circles as we tried to figure out what might have happened to the ring. Museums seemed a likely bet, but it might just as soon have been part of a private collection.

  “What about whoever took Joyous Gard after Lance – left. Surely it wouldn’t have been left empty? A cousin or uncle, or something?”

  Wyn shook his head. “Joyous Gard fell to ruins after Lancelot died. He had taken the castle after breaking an ancient curse, but after he died the curse came back. The people of the town that served it fled, finding new homes and new lords to serve. Or at least, that’s what I heard in the years before my own death.”

  “So the ring could still be there? The ring could still be at Joyous Gard?”

  “Dolorous Gard,” Wyn corrected me. “And trust me, that’s the last place we want to try and go.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was after dark before we all left Sam’s and despite all my cajoling and begging, Wyn and Percy refused to tell me any more about Dolorous Gard.

  Other than that we weren’t going there. End of story.

  Dad seemed relieved to see me when I got home. I knew he was glad I was making things up with Sam but after disappearing on him for over a week he really didn’t trust me anymore. I didn’t blame him.

  As we sat eating dinner I pictured him as I had so many times when I’d been gone, waiting for the phone to ring, long sleepless nights wondering if he’d ever see me again.

  I didn’t know if I could do that to him again. Could I be that cruel? And Dolorous Gard sounded like the kind of place I might not make it back from. Even Wyn and Percy seemed afraid of it.

  Dad would never let me go off again willi
ngly, so it would mean sneaking off. I wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive me. One more thing like that would destroy our relationship for ever.

  I went to bed with my thoughts still a mess. Sleep was a long time coming.

  When it finally claimed me it was anything but peaceful.

  I dreamt of dragons and other creatures of legend stalking the earth, leaving death and destruction behind them. I dreamt of crazy conspiracies to overthrow the royal family, and Buckingham Palace being destroyed in fire, a new Camelot rising from the ashes, like the phoenix I had once seen.

  They were normal dreams, not the dreams of my seer blood, but that made them no less terrifying. And even though part of me knew they were dreams I couldn’t fight them, or change them.

  When they finally did fade, the part of me that was aware knew immediately I was slipping into a vision. The quality changed. Everything became crisper, clearer, and sharper than reality. I was getting better at recognising them, and controlling them, so I let it sweep me away, almost eager to see what it would show me.

  The cliff top was in front of me again, but the sea was calm, the sky an endless, cloudless blue. This wasn’t a normal vision, this was Merlin, I was sure of it.

  The harsh, lonely cry of a seagull drifted through the empty air above me, and as I tipped my head back to look up at it warm arms encircled my waist.

  I closed my eyes tight, not wanting to shatter the moment, just breathing in the smell of him. The smell of armour and polish, and a scent that was undefinably Lancelot.

  “You’re here.” I said at last.

  He brushed his lips across my neck until they reached my ear. “I’m here.”

  I didn’t care that it was just a vision. I turned and buried myself in his arms.