The Forever Queen (Pendragon Book 2)

by Nicola S. Dorrington

  “Then go. I love you.”

  “Always, Cariad.”

  I woke with a start and wet cheeks, the familiar feeling of loneliness creeping over me. I adored seeing him, even if only in my dreams, but each time I woke up it was like losing him all over again.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Ring of Dispel, its chipped emerald stone glinting in the light.

  With a half-smile I slipped it onto my left-ring finger. It should have felt strange and out of place – I never wore a ring on that finger – but instead it felt right, perfect somehow.

  Old maid indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Back home we settled into an old familiar routine. At school I daydreamed and thought of Lance, and at home I dreamt of him. Though they were my own dreams not Merlin’s. I knew Merlin wouldn’t waste his magic if he didn’t have anything of importance to share with me, but I still hoped, every time I went to sleep, that I would open my eyes and find Lance there with me.

  In the meantime we were lost. We’d looked everywhere for mention of the Silver Bough, scouring the internet and proper ink and paper libraries, but it clearly wasn’t the most well-known of Fey legends. All the hours we spent in fruitless search only made me more and more frustrated.

  More often than not Sam would drive us out to the old farmhouse and we would lounge around in dusty old disused rooms flicking through book after book – or in Sam’s case googling on her iPad.

  As the search seemed less and less likely to yield results Wyn got bored, and his usual solution was to flirt with Sam.

  It bothered me more than I would have liked to admit. Not because I had any romantic feelings for Wyn, but because in a selfish little part of my brain he was mine. Just like Percy was. They belonged to a different world that I was a part of and not Sam.

  It was silly and petty and jealous, but I couldn’t help it. Not when Lance was so far away. I had to sit and watch them, Sam giggling as Wyn whispered in her ear, the air between them full of lingering looks and tiny touches. I was also scared for her. I didn’t want her to get hurt, but how could I say anything without seeming jealous?

  One afternoon I’d finally had enough and I slammed my book shut, shooting to my feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “It’s raining,” Wyn called out to me as I stomped out of the front door.

  He was right but I wasn’t about to let that stop me.

  I squelched out across the mud, the rain soaking my hair and dripping down the back of my collar. Letting the rain wash some of my frustrations away.

  “Cara.”

  I turned as Percy crossed the yard to join me.

  “Go back inside, Percy. You’re going to get soaked.”

  He shrugged. “A little water won’t kill me.”

  My mind flashed back to another day in the rain, sheltered in a doorway as Lance grinned that crooked smile of his. The first time we had shared lingering looks, and tiny touches that had set my skin on fire. A time when we had just been two normal teenagers, when I had felt a connection to him but not realised how deep it went.

  My lower lip trembled.

  “Oh no. Please don’t cry. I’m no good with crying women.”

  I thumped Percy’s arm then winced and shook out my fingers.

  “I’m not going to cry.” And I wasn’t, although part of me wanted to. I wanted to cry and rant and scream about how unfair it all was. But as much as it might have felt good – it wasn’t going to get me anywhere. It wasn’t going to solve any of my problems.

  “What the hell are we doing, Percy? We’re chasing after fairy-tales.”

  He chuckled. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been doing that for months now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not a fairy-tale. You’re a Celtic legend.”

  “Same difference really. After all, Camelot, Avalon, stone circles, the Silver Bough, they’re all linked in the end.”

  I blinked. “Bloody hell, of course.”

  “Of course what?” Percy looked utterly confused.

  “I know someone who might know about the Silver Bough. Who might know more of the legend. Thomas.”

  Percy looked at me blankly.

  “The leader of the Order of Camelot. He said himself he’s got some of the old magic in his blood. The Order has been passing down the old legends and stories for generations. They might know something we don’t.”

  Percy didn’t look convinced; in fact he looked decidedly unhappy about it. Before I could question why Sam came racing out of the farm house.

  “Cara! Cara, you have to see this.” She waved her iPad wildly as she slipped across the muddy ground. She reached me and thrust it into my hand.

  “What?”

  “Read it.”

  I glanced down to see she had a news article on the screen. It took me a moment to realise what I was reading.

  “Ancient castle ruins found in Northumberland National Park.” I looked up at her, too confused to even read the rest.

  “It’s Joyous Gard, or Dolorous Gard, or whatever you call it now. Someone found the ruins; they’re digging it up as we speak.”

  I looked at Percy, and Wyn who’d just joined us. “But that can’t be right. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “It’s not a coincidence.” Wyn looked furious. “Someone followed us. And we know who.”

  “The Order of Camelot? But why?”

  “To see what we were up to – and we led them straight to the most perfect situation for them.”

  I was still drawing a blank; the surprise had rendered me a little bit dense. “Why? It’s just an old castle ruin.”

  Wyn snorted. “No, it’s an old castle ruin that has somehow managed to go undiscovered until now, and happens to have some pretty interesting evidence that the Round Table existed, along with King Arthur and his knights.”

  I must have still looked pretty confused because Wyn smacked me lightly on the forehead. “Think, Cara. They want you on the throne of Albion. And to do that first they have to prove that Arthur wasn’t just a legend, that he really existed and therefore you have a claim to the throne.”

  “But they’re just a bunch of crackpots.”

  “Crackpots with someone who can tap into the old magic. Crackpots with a lot of money and influence. You need to start taking them seriously. I don’t know what they’re planning, but they are planning something. The timing of everything is just too perfect.”

  Wyn was probably right, but I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to think of the Order as anything other than crackpots because if I did then I would have to face the fact that they were as much a problem as the dragon. And I had enough to deal with. I was also becoming more and more convinced that as much as I didn’t want to, I was going to have to go to them for help.

  Dad was in the living room when I got home. He smiled at me when I came in. He’d softened a lot since I’d started spending time with Sam again.

  “Hey Dad.”

  He patted the sofa next to him. “You’ve got to see this, Cara. It’s unbelievable.”

  The 6’o’clock news was on and the reporter stood in front of a heart-wrenchingly familiar place. The ruins of Joyous Gard were misty in a light rain, but the reporter seemed too excited to notice she was getting wet.

  “The site was stumbled upon by accident by a father and son here hiking in the forest. Archaeologists are at a loss as to how the site hasn’t been uncovered before although the tree cover makes it almost unnoticeable from the air, and there is little remaining of the original structures. The most incredible find however was discovered by the son. A tunnel underneath the original castle ruins – all that remains of the original dungeon. It’s not been declared safe enough for us to go down with the cameras, but the team working on the site have given us some fascinating images.”

  The picture on the screen changed to a split screen – on one side was a photo of the vault, and on the other a picture of Lancelot’s tomb.

&
nbsp; The reporter’s voice over continued. “The wealth in the vault room is estimated in the millions – though of course it will be donated to various museums around the country. But the most fascinating part of this discovery is the tomb and it’s clearly very important occupant.

  “Though they are still working on dating the ruins and tomb, experts are already saying that this is the oldest such tomb ever discovered. According to experts in the field this one discovery may significantly change our view of a whole period of history. But the real gem is the carvings found on the wall outside the tomb.” The picture zoomed in on the carvings. “Carvings that seem to clearly depict what looks like the Round Table of King Arthur and other scenes straight out of Arthurian legend. If the dating proves to be correct these carvings will predate Monmouth and Malory, and may in fact prove once and for all that King Arthur and his Round Table really existed.”

  The image changed back to the reporter in the rain.

  “If that is the case then we may have to question everything we once believed to be myth.”

  The programme switched back to the studio and Dad shook his head in wonder.

  “Incredible isn’t it? Can you imagine – if that’s actually the Tomb of King Arthur?”

  “It’s not.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  Dad half-laughed, but he looked at me oddly. “And how would you know that?”

  I perched on the edge of the sofa, my hands dangling between my knees. My chest felt tight, my breath short. Seeing the tomb on the news had affected me more than I expected. “I don’t know. I’m just guessing.”

  “Liar.” Dad forced me to look at him. “What is going on, Cara? Did you even go to Newcastle University? Did you have anything to do with this?”

  I stared at him. “How could you possibly think-“

  “I’m not an idiot, Cara. I lived with your mum for years listening to her delusions. I’m well aware that they all seemed to focus around the legends of King Arthur. Now this and you. Don’t you think I hear you calling out in your sleep? I’ve heard you crying out their names. Merlin, Arthur – you beg them for help, you beg them to help you save him. I want the truth, Cara.”

  I stared at my father. He was so far removed from the world I was part of, but whilst the barriers between us and Avalon were holding firm, the barriers between my two worlds were crumbling down. I could never have imagined having this conversation with my father, and now I was I didn’t know what to say.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I whispered.

  “Try.”

  “I can’t.”

  I’d never seen Dad look so hurt, so frustrated. “Why do you call out for him every night? Why do I hear you sobbing his name into your pillow whilst you sleep? Why do you cry for Lancelot?”

  “Because he’s real,” I whispered at last, my voice breaking. “Because it’s all real. Every legend, every myth, they’re all real.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “King Arthur lived, and died. Merlin existed, still exists.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not crazy, nor is Mum. It’s just our bloodline – it makes us different.”

  “Bloodline?”

  “In my veins, passed down through Mum, runs the blood of King Arthur. I’m the last descendent of the line of Kings. Touched by magic and the Fey. I’m the last Pendragon.”

  For a moment Dad just stared at me. I couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. I didn’t know whether he was ready to call Snedham or laugh.

  “So when you left – “

  I told him everything. The words poured out in a torrent, so fast I could barely draw breath. I couldn’t stop, even when Dad’s eyes got wider and more disbelieving. I couldn’t stop, even when he started shaking his head.

  Eventually he grabbed my hands. “Cara, Cara stop. Enough.”

  He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes.

  I jumped to my feet.

  “Come on.”

  “Come where? Cara, sweetheart, calm down.”

  “We’re going to see Mum right now.”

  “No, Cara –“

  But I was already at the front door, yanking on my coat and grabbing the car keys. He had no choice but to follow me. He even gave in and drove. Perhaps he was thinking if he could get me to Snedham he could get me into the hands of Mum’s doctors.

  I didn’t give him the chance. As soon as we arrived I bullied the nurse into letting us in to see Mum. They weren’t happy about it, but they didn’t have much choice. Not when I point blank refused to move until they agreed.

  I hustled him down to Mum’s room, but the closer we got the paler he became.

  I couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to see Mum, it had been years. He had always said it was too hard for him to see her like that, but I’d always thought it was a cop out. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  Outside the door he looked like he was going to vomit and for a moment I felt guilty for pushing him into it. I buried the feeling and pushed into Mum’s room.

  It hadn’t changed since my last visit. Still sterile and harsh. White walls, white bed. Even Mum in her white pyjamas, sat in the same chair, as though she hadn’t even moved since my last visit.

  She looked up as we came in and her face lit up.

  “Caronwyn, my baby.”

  I crossed quickly to hug her as Dad stood with his mouth open. The last time he’d seen her she hadn’t recognised anyone.

  She was lucid, almost normal. She still drifted sometimes, when her mind was overwhelmed with by the memories and visions that were left over from when she carried me, but she spoke to Dad calmly and rationally. She told him about the visions and everything she had seen. Everything that matched perfectly with what I had been trying to tell him.

  Dad listened in wonder.

  By the end, when Mum’s voice had grown hoarse from talking, I still wasn’t sure if he believed us or not, but he also didn’t seem about to call the doctors on me.

  The three of us sat in a little huddle by the window. The first time in years that my family had all been together. After Mum finished talking, and drifted again with one of her memories the staff finally forced us to leave, and Dad drove home in a state of bewildered silence. I hoped I hadn’t put too much on him, even though I knew the truth had shaken him to the core.

  In the front hall I finally spoke. “Dad-“

  “Not now, Cara. I need – time – to sleep. In the morning.” He climbed the stairs wearily, leaving me wondering how on earth I had managed to mess it all up so badly.

  I sat up for a long time, watching Sky news as they continued to repeat the segment on the tomb in Northumberland. They never added much, but it was a slow enough news day that it remained the headline story.

  At last I tired of it, of hearing the same things over and over, and watching the image of Lancelot’s tomb on the screen. Once in bed sleep came slowly, and I dreamt of Dad wandering the halls of Camelot looking lost and confused.

  “So it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job for the Order.”

  I span. My dream had changed and I was back in my room, Lance sat on the end of my bed. He was in a strange mix of clothes – a pair of jeans, but with his chainmail and breastplate. With his hair tousled and wild he made me think of some kind of avenging angel.

  I wanted to scramble into his lap, but I restrained myself.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Leading them straight to the very proof they needed. Bringing more and more people into our world. It’s exactly what they’re hoping for.”

  “I didn’t mean to – “

  He smiled to soften his words and show he was joking. “But seriously, Cara. This couldn’t have played into their hands better if you’d planned it that way.”

  I made a face. “I know. Why’d you have those stupid carvings-“

  He shrugged. “It was hardly my choice, but it was tradition to carve scenes from someone’s life on their tomb.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately it’s exactly what th
ey needed. Their plans only work if people accept that Arthur is real.”

  “It doesn’t matter though. It’s not as though the Royal line is unbroken since someone took the throne from Arthur is it? And Albion isn’t the UK, as much as they might like to think it is.”

  He laughed. “No. But if people start to accept that Arthur is real then they have to start at least considering a lot of other things. Like Merlin for example.”

  “And Avalon. And magic.” I could see the point he was trying to make. “But would that really be so bad? For you to finally be considered a proper historical figure, rather than a legend?”

  A half-smile quirked his lips. “I can’t say it wouldn’t be nice. However, do you really think the world is ready to accept magic and everything that goes with it? To have it all proved would alter a lot of people’s belief systems.”

  Personally I couldn’t see that it would be so bad. A lot of people could do with a little magic in their lives.

  Lance seemed to know the direction of my thoughts.

  “Regardless of how you feel, you know it would change everything. Besides, the last thing you want is to give the Order any more power.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  He shrugged. “Essentially. Merlin wanted me to warn you. Particularly if you do manage to find the Silver Bough.”

  “Warning heard.” I nodded. “Anything else?”

  A sly smile crept onto his lips. “Plus, I just wanted to check on you.”

  I stood up and gave him a twirl. “All in one piece.”

  Next thing I knew I was in his lap. I yelped in protest, but he only laughed and pulled me in for a long, slow kiss.

  Vision or not there was no avoiding the way his kiss set my body on fire. The tingle started at my lips and ran straight down to my toes.

  I locked my arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

  His hands slid up my thighs, gripping just under my bum and moving me until I sat with my knees on the bed on either side of his hips.

  I leant into him, burying my face in his neck and breathing in the scent of him. His fingertips trailed up my spine and his hands tangled in my hair.