The Forever Queen (Pendragon Book 2)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  Instead Sam and I took a room to ourselves with Wyn and Percy next door. We got changed for bed and then sat looking at each other across the space between the beds.

  “This feels weird.”

  I smiled at her. “Not nearly so weird as last time.” I told her about the night in Cardiff, the night I really started falling for Lancelot.

  “I bet that was quite a sight,” she said with a smirk when I told her about him coming out of the shower, wrapped in just a towel. “Though, I have to admit, the image of Wyn is a far better one.”

  I lobbed a pillow at her. “You do realise that Wyn is…more than he seems?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, he’s a super cool, incredibly hot, knight in shining armour. Literally.” She grew more serious. “Don’t worry, Cara. I know what Wyn is, but you can’t blame a girl for looking.”

  I really couldn’t. But as we switched off the lights to sleep I couldn’t help worrying about her. I had fallen for Lance against all my better judgement, and so far it had only led to suffering, for both of us. Wyn’s time in the real world was limited, and I didn’t want to see her get hurt. Or Wyn for that matter.

  We were up before dawn, woken by the blaring of Sam’s phone alarm. It wasn’t even half-five. But we wanted to get to the forest at first light. After all, we had no idea how long it would take us to find Dolorous Gard, and the likelihood was that we would have to do most of the journey on foot.

  The drive out took just over an hour. There was no traffic and Wyn drove at speeds that only he would consider thrilling rather than dangerous. Whilst he grinned like a maniac the rest of us clung to the door handles with white knuckles.

  We came off the main road and took the smaller, windier country roads, passing through a landscape of fields and little forests. The sky began to lighten slowly, turning from black to steely grey.

  The terrain become more hilly and wild and the road became narrower and rougher, until at last we were on a dirt track winding between the hills and amongst the trees.

  “Do you actually know where we’re going?” I asked Wyn finally. The sun had come up, faint and watery behind a high layer of cloud.

  Wyn gave a half-hearted shrug. “Kind of. I only came to the Gard once or twice over the years, but I have an excellent sense of direction. Admittedly, this was all forest back then, almost all the way to the coast.”

  The car rumbled to a halt and Wyn gazed up through the windscreen at a hill rising above us, the side still deeply wooded.

  “Here,” he said softly. “I’m sure it’s here.”

  He killed the engine and we clambered out. I went straight round to the boot and opened it. Excalibur gleamed against the dark carpeting.

  I pulled the sword out, still in its dark, rich leather sheath.

  I left it in the care of Wyn and Percy most of the time. It was supposed to be invisible unless I chose for people to see it, but I still worried that Dad would find it if I kept it at home, and I had no idea how I would explain that to him.

  It was strange though, I’d only worn it for a few days towards the end of the whole incident with Morgana, but it felt so natural to strap it around my waist, the weight of it almost comforting.

  Wyn smiled at me as I came back round the car.

  “It’s a good look.”

  I laughed. I wondered how strange I did look in my jeans, grey tank top and black hoodie, with a sword belted to my hip. It had to be an odd combination. Luckily I had remembered my proper boots. I wasn’t hiking through forest in little slip on flats again.

  I turned to Sam. I wanted to give her one last chance. “You can stay here by the car if you want – “

  The look she gave me answered my question well enough.

  “Then let’s go.”

  The hike up through the trees was tougher going than I expected. I was fitter than I had been a month ago, but it was all up hill, and I started sweating before long. The path was non-existent and we spent most of the time beating our way through the undergrowth. The occasional rustle told us we were not alone in the woods, but otherwise all was still and quiet.

  “The village used to be down in the valley,” Wyn said from ahead of me. “There used to be a little river running through here, down where the track is. I guess it changed course over the years.”

  “So why can’t the Gard be down there?” I panted back at him, pushing my sweaty fringe out of my eyes.

  He shot me a scathing look. “It wouldn’t be very defensive, would it? Down there on level ground.”

  I had a sudden memory of being stuck in a tiny closet with Lance pressed up behind me and a vision, one of his memories that wasn’t quite a memory. We’d been standing at the top of a high tower, looking down into a village spread below, hills and wild forest surrounding it.

  I turned, but the trees blocked my view. Yet somehow I knew Wyn was right, this was the right place.

  We had not gotten much higher up when I stumbled as my foot slid across a stone, a stone chipped and marked by human hands, and I knew we’d found the outer buildings of the castle.

  Only a few seconds later Wyn stumbled too and fell, swearing as his knee hit the ground.

  A sense of unease settled over me. I’d never seen Wyn trip before. He was surefooted, and moved like I imagined a panther did, with elegance and grace. Something wasn’t right.

  “Wyn?”

  He glanced back at me, brushing off his now ripped jeans.

  “Something is trying to keep us away. Can’t you feel it?”

  Now he’d mentioned it I could feel an uncomfortable prickling across the back of my neck like I was being watched. The eyes watching were not friendly. It reminded me of when we’d first entered the forest around the Lake, but this was darker and far more menacing. Unlike the Lake there was true evil there.

  Sam’s face a few steps back was white as paper, her pupils dilated with fear.

  “Sam?”

  She shuddered. “We should turn back. Now.”

  “We can’t.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering violently. “We have to. To go on is to walk into the hands of death.”

  Those weren’t her words, she didn’t talk like that. Something was using her to frighten us. It was working. The air felt thick, heavy, like a storm was coming. It started getting hard to breathe, like iron bands were constricting around my chest.

  I reached back and grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling her along behind me. She didn’t fight me, but I could feel the tension running through her body.

  Only a few more feet up and my ears started to buzz, my fingertips tingling like I had pins and needles. The magic was so strong it was like electricity thrumming through the air.

  Somehow I’d taken the lead, both Wyn and Percy had fallen behind me, their eyes dazed and somewhat unfocused. I had three people with me, yet somehow I felt utterly alone.

  I took three more steps and the shadows in the trees ahead took on a solid form.

  A scream built in my throat as the wraith strode towards me. Somehow I forced it down, but I closed my fingers around the hilt of Excalibur. It was like I had stepped into one of my nightmares and the stench of death was stronger than ever; dried blood and rotting flesh. I had hoped that I would never have to face another wraith; it was a foolish hope.

  “None may enter Dolorous Gard.” The wraith’s voice was dusty and heavy, like it really did come from the depths of a tomb. It had an odd echo to it as though more than one voice was speaking.

  “I must.” I forced the words out between clenched teeth.

  “None may enter,” the wraith repeated. “Only the one destined, who can defeat the ten knights who await him at the first gate, the ten who wait at the second gate. And then face the Copper Knight in final combat. Only he may enter here.”

  “Lancelot.” I breathed the name.

  The wraith turned towards me, though there were no eyes behind the visor of the helmet.

  “Only he may enter here.”

&nb
sp; “Well, he’s not here,” I said, my voice cracking. “He’s not here, and I am. I will enter the Gard.”

  “Who are you to seek entry?”

  I swallowed hard. I no longer had Arthur sharing my head, but he’d been a part of me long enough that the echo of him still lingered. Enough to put words on my tongue.

  “I am Caronwyn Pendragon, Last Knight of Camelot, Last Blood of Arthur, the Once and Future King. Daughter of Queens.” My voice rose, as though each title really did give me some kind of strength. “I have the magic of Avalon in my blood. I wield Excalibur. And I will pass.”

  The wraith bowed low, as though enamoured by my titles, but as he straightened, drew his sword.

  “If you demand passage, so be it. Then you shall face the curse of Dolorous Gard. Ten knights must be faced at the first gate, ten at the second, and finally the Copper Knight himself. You and you alone must do this. Do you accept?”

  I glanced back over my shoulder. Wyn was shaking his head desperately. I knew he wanted us to stop, to talk about it, to make a plan. Percy just looked gutted that he couldn’t get in on the fight.

  “I have to,” I mouthed at Wyn. I turned back to the wraith. “I accept.”

  It nodded. “Then I am the first knight you will face, and my brothers await you.”

  The shadows behind him shifted and suddenly I could make out the Gard. It was ruined but the arch of the gate still stood and there in front of it materialised the forms of nine more wraiths.

  I gulped and tightened my grip on Excalibur.

  Chapter Twelve

  The wraith charged down towards me and I realised very quickly why most castles were built on higher ground. The swings of his sword had more weight to them and I struggled to hold my ground, let alone press him to gain the advantage.

  I deflected blow after blow, the clash of swords ringing out through the trees, but I couldn’t find an opening to strike back. With Excalibur in my hand I only needed one good hit. Its dragon-forged blade was the one of the only things in the world that could kill a wraith.

  The wraith slammed down with numbing force, jarring my sword out of my hand and sending it skittering across the rocks. I flung myself flat as a sword whistled over my head, rolling as he reversed the swing and brought the sword scything down. The other wraiths hadn’t even joined the fight yet and I was already almost done.

  “Cara!” Wyn’s desperate voice reached me, but I couldn’t turn to look. “Catch.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw something metal come sliding at me and I rolled towards it.

  It was a shield. The front was chipped and dented, but it had once been enamelled with the Sigel of Gwain’s House.

  I grabbed it and slid my arm into the straps just as the wraith lunged at me again.

  I brought the shield up over me and let the wraith rain down blows as I scanned the ground for Excalibur.

  It had come to rest almost twenty feet away, but before I could start to move towards it a hand grabbed it, flinging it back in my direction.

  I snatched it off the ground and swung at the wraith’s legs. Excalibur cut true and the wraith folded with an inhuman scream.

  Forcing myself to my feet, despite the protests of my body, I met the gaze of the other nine wraiths waiting at the gate.

  I was either going to get through the gate, or die trying.

  My muscles burned, begging me to rest, if only for a moment, but I couldn’t stop. The wraiths wouldn’t.

  I was horribly outnumbered, I knew that, but I had to keep going.

  Three wraiths, four including the original guard, were now simply piles of rusted armour, but I knew that if I backed down I would have to start all over again. I knew how these things worked.

  Hopelessness overwhelmed me and I dropped to one knee, the shield thrust over my head, protecting me from blows I didn’t have the energy to deflect.

  “Cara.” Wyn’s voice was hoarse from shouting. “Get up.”

  I couldn’t. My body wasn’t responding to messages from my brain, it was in full rebellion. The blows were raining down and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. I wanted to just quit, to throw my hands up in defeat and let this be someone else’s problem.

  On your feet, Cara. No child of my blood will die on her knees.

  I gasped. It couldn’t be possible. I hadn’t heard his voice in weeks, longer even. I never thought it possible, but I’d missed him.

  “Arthur…”

  There was no reply, the voice was gone, if it had ever really been there. But he came to mind then, as I had last seen him, standing in Avalon full of life, power and strength.

  I drew on that strength. It was a part of who I was as well. Not just because I was Cara Pendragon, but because I was Cara Page, and everything I’d been through had made me stronger. I had always fought back, I had never given up and I wasn’t about to start now.

  I drove upwards with the shield and pushed the wraiths back a few steps. Slashing out with Excalibur as they charged back towards me Excalibur struck and two wraiths disintegrated.

  Lance had never taught me how to fight with a shield, but some remnant of Arthur guided my moves as I drove the wraiths back step by step.

  Slashing, parrying and blocking, I advanced step by step towards the gate. My muscles still protested every move, but I ignored them.

  It wasn’t bravery that carried me through, it was sheer stubbornness. I would not fail. I couldn’t fail.

  At last just one wraith stood between me and the gate.

  I caught its sword against the shield and thrust it away, leaving it open for me to lunge with Excalibur.

  The wraith collapsed into a pile of armour, and so did I, minus the armour. On my knees I panted desperately for breath, my blood ringing in my ears.

  Someone pounding on my shoulder brought me back to my senses and I looked up to find Percy beaming down at me.

  “Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all.”

  Wyn reached my other side, hauling me to my feet.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is just the first gate.”

  Sam tutted and pushed past both men, shoving a bottle of water into my hand.

  “Drink. You look like you need it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I thought women were just supposed to perspire or ‘glow’, not sweat like pigs.”

  For one brief second she sounded just like the Sam who made my life hell for two years, but then she laughed.

  “Damn it, that was impressive. Where did you even learn to do that?”

  I thought of long days in a clearing with Lancelot in the long distant past. Of a knight from a different age coming to terms with the idea of a woman as anything other than a delicate flower.

  “I was taught by the best.”

  Wyn snorted. “Well, he forgot a few things. Like how to fight dirty.”

  “Hey – he-“

  “Yes, he taught you well,” Wyn said before I could finish. “But he taught you to fight like a knight, not like a warrior. Your swordsmanship is perfect, but you don’t press your advantage once you’ve got it. You almost step back to let them come at you again. Sure it’s the knightly thing to do in a duel, but this isn’t a sword ring. And you’ve got ten more wraiths to face by sundown.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was gone noon, and it had taken longer than I’d hoped to secure the first gate. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do it again.

  “I don’t know that I can.”

  You can.

  The voice was faint but it was definitely there.

  “Arthur?”

  There was no answer, but I could feel him there. Not as he’d once been, sitting right behind my eyes it always felt like, but more distant, and I felt like he was shouting, straining to reach me.

  “He’s back?” Wyn’s voice was so unbearably hopeful that I hated to crush him.

  “Not exactly. But I can hear him again, faintly, but he’s there. Could the magic that’s holding the gateways sealed be weakening?�
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  “More likely it’s this place. The curse is strong enough that magic has lingered here long after it’s bled out of the rest of the country. It’s in the very rocks here, in the earth. It’s almost like a stone circle.”

  I had little energy to do anything but nod. The cool air was making my muscles seize up and I struggled to move, knowing that if I didn’t soon I wouldn’t be able to at all. I walked in small circles, trying to keep my body from getting too cold. I also knew I was delaying.

  “You could rest for a while,” Percy said, watching me with faint concern on his broad face.

  Wyn shook his head. “It’s already afternoon, we can’t afford to waste the day. The second the sun hits the horizon, they will count the day over.”

  “I guess we better get moving then.” Even though I’d never felt less like moving in my life.

  It felt a little stupid to be stepping through a crumbling archway when the walls on either side had long since vanished, but I knew the magic that still supported the curse would stop us entering any other way.

  The second gate and wall were a little more substantial, as though the forest and time itself had been slowed by the curse as well.

  The walls still half stood, though in places they had fallen into piles of moss covered masonry. The arch of the gate was still intact, though the wooden door that must once have filled it had long since rotted away. Ivy and other climbing plants had taken root around the foundations of the walls, the green growth making the walls look as though they were part of the forest. Moss and grass had grown up through the cobblestones, making them crack and buckle.

  Beyond the half tumbled walls I could see the remains of a tower rising above. It was easy to tell from the ruins that this had been no Camelot. It was a knight’s castle. A watchtower, not built for comfort or luxury, but for defence. A castle not to be lived in, but guarded.

  In my mind’s eye I could see the castle as it would once have been, tall and strong, but grim and unyielding, just like the knight who had once held it.