With My Last Breath

by Courtney Cole

  ‚Wait… did you know?' Something in his voice told me that he did.

  ‚Of course I did. I’ve been with you for a very long time. I knew, but I was willing to be patient and wait until you trusted me enough to tell me. But you didn’t and now everything is in ruins.'

  ‚Don’t say that!' I shouted. ‚I’m going to fix it. Everything.'

  He shook his head sadly. ‚I don’t know that you can. Even a tiny ripple in time has massive consequences. I’ve told you that before. But this… this is no ripple. This is a jagged tear. Everything has been changed. There is no comprehending the consequences from this.'

  ‚Can I trust you?' I asked him. ‚They kill you, you know. Eventually, they will torture you to your death.'

  ‚Yes,' he murmured. ‚I know. I always knew it. They will torture me because I will protect you. I saw that long ago,' he shrugged. ‚But that will not happen now.

  Not unless you manage to change our current course. Are you willing to do that?'

  ‚Of course I’m willing!' I snapped. ‚I will do whatever it takes. Can you tell me what to do?'

  ‚No,' he replied. ‚But I can give you something. Something that I already gave you and you allowed it to slip back into their grasp.'

  ‚The box!' I gasped.

  He nodded. ‚Yes. The box of murderous souls. This will be the second time that I sacrifice myself for you, Keeper. When they realize that it is gone and that I am missing, they will realize what I have done. And they will hunt me down until they find me. Fix this before that happens,' he implored me. ‚Save us all.'

  ‚Cadmus is in this box,' he told me. ‚His soul will be in your hands. If something happens to it while he is separated from his body, it will permanently be so. Take great care.'

  My heart pounded loudly. Cadmus was in the box.

  ‚What do I do?' I cried. ‚What am I supposed to do with the box?'

  He thrust it into my hands. ‚Save us all,' he answered simply.

  ‚I want to. I’ll try, but…'

  Courtney Cole 95

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  But he was gone. I was standing in the Wastelands alone and there was no one left to answer my questions. I clutched the intricate carved black box and closed my eyes, willing myself to wake.

  And then I was. I opened my eyes to the blackness of night in Camelot. The box of souls was in my hands. I stroked the textured top. My husband’s soul was trapped in my hands and there was currently nothing I could do about it. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. I lay still for a few minutes, trying to collect myself.

  ‚Are you awake?' Lucan asked softly from his vantage point across the fire.

  I sat up and nodded. ‚Yes. I… grew cold. I couldn’t sleep.' I opened my knapsack and placed the box gently inside.

  ‚I’m not tired,' he told me. ‚Feel free to try to go back to sleep. You should rest.

  As you said, tomorrow will be long and tiresome.'

  I studied him, my heart heavy in my chest. He was so beautiful and strong. And if I couldn’t think of what to do or how to save us, then everything that he was would end here in this life. Once he died here, since his soul was trapped in a box, he would be no more. And what a horrible, horrible tragedy that would be for the world. He was a beautiful person.

  ‚I don’t think I can,' I replied. ‚I’m so cold. Do you… do you mind if I come and sit by you so that I can share your warmth?'

  He looked at me for a moment, studying my face. What I had requested was very brazen for these times, something a lady would never do. But I wasn’t a lady. I was a goddess and I would do whatever the hell I felt like doing.

  ‚Of course,' he finally replied. ‚You may share my warmth.'

  Picking up my knapsack, I crept to his side and settled in, curling up next to him with my bag clutched in my arms. Being here, next to this man who normally knew me better than I even knew myself, was comforting. It was like being home. And to a girl who had traveled through a thousand different lives and bodies over the years, it was heaven. I closed my eyes and slept.

  Courtney Cole 96

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sound of a dry twig breaking woke me and my eyes popped open. I was alone, both Lucan and Hecate were nowhere to be found. I sat straight up, the box of souls still in my arms, as looked around.

  It was early morning and the fire had died down to embers. Everything but my blanket had been packed up and was waiting to be loaded onto our horses. I shook my head slightly to clear the sleep from it.

  Another twig popped and I spun around, finding Lucan walking toward me.

  ‚You should be glad I pose no threat,' he observed. ‚You sleep like the dead.'

  He was right. I really did. But I knew, I had always known, that he would protect me from any bumps in the night. Not that I could say that to him right now. Instead, I gazed around.

  ‚Where is Hectate?' I asked.

  ‚I’m here!' she called, approaching us from the left. ‚I was hunting for some breakfast.'

  My mouth twitched. ‚Really?' I smiled. ‚And what, domestic goddess, did you find?'

  ‚Don’t doubt me,' she shot back. ‚Do plump, ripe blackberries appeal to you?'

  ‚They do sound delicious,' I admitted. ‚Do you know anyone who could find some for us?'

  She glared at me, swinging a basket full of berries that I knew she had probably conjured. This witch had not walked over the countryside to find berries. I knew that much to be true.

  She handed them to Lucan and he sat on the ground, offering them to me. I took a handful and put one in my mouth, enjoying the juicy rich taste. They weren’t lotus blossoms, but they were delicious nonetheless. I licked the stickiness from my fingers before returning my attention to the witch.

  ‚We should ride,' Hecate muttered, looking in concern at the horizon. ‚They will approach us soon enough. We do not want to be here when they arrive. And I had a dream last night. There is a place I would like to stop along the way. I feel drawn to it even now.'

  Lucan stared at her curiously, but didn’t ask any questions. He simply nodded.

  ‚You’re correct. We should ride far from here.'

  He reached down and offered me a hand, helping me to my feet. I stood face to face with him, his lips mere inches from my own, before he took a step backward.

  ‚I readied your horse,' he mumbled, gesturing toward Celine. ‚Everything is set.'

  Courtney Cole 97

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  I nodded and approached my horse, stroking her velvety nose for a moment before swinging up into the saddle. She was anxious and exhaled in short puffs, stomping her front foot.

  ‚It’s alright, Celine,' I soothed her, patting her neck.

  ‚No, it’s not,' Hecate contradicted. ‚It’s really not. There is danger out there. I can sense it, the horses can sense it. We should be on our guard.'

  ‚And that we are,' Lucan stated as he mounted his horse.

  Following him, I nudged Celine into movement and we took off like streaks across the Camelot countryside. Behind us, heavy black clouds rolled and thunder rumbled throughout the land, but rain never came. The air, which was normally so damp and life-sustaining here, was now arid and empty.

  Minutes turned into hours and I wished that we could simply envision that we were already there. But since Lucan still did not know who we really were, we could do no such thing. Instead, we rode our horses the traditional way and my backside was painfully aware of it. Piercing aches shot through my hips and with every jolt of the saddle, my lower back screamed.

  As we traveled, I grew increasingly more appalled at the state of Camelot.

  Everything was dead. There was nothing vibrant or alive for as far as I could see. The once waving grasses were brown and wilted, rocks jutted from the craggy earth and dead trees hunched over on the horizon. It was as though the life had been sucked from the earth.

&nbs
p; Finally, just when I thought that my back could take no more jolting from the saddle, something emerged from the dead landscape and Hecate shot forward. I kicked Celine into a gallop, anxious to stand on my feet again and to see where Hecate had brought us.

  I slid from my horse and stretched happily for a moment, working out the kinks in my spine. Lucan came up from behind and caught the reins dangling from my hand.

  ‚I’ll take your horse, my lady,' he offered. ‚You appear to be tired.'

  I nodded my thanks. ‚It has been a long time since I was in a saddle so long,' I told him ruefully. ‚My back doesn’t agree with this trip, apparently.'

  He smiled and together, we walked over the ridge. As we reached the top of the small hill, I stopped in my tracks. I knew this place from history books, for certain, but I also felt a strong vague recognition. I must have been here before.

  Magnificent stone slabs rose from the ground in two rings. The outer ring was tall, and each two Sarsen stones were connected by a cap stone on top, linking them together. The inner ring was made from shorter bluestones. The stones were heavy and unlike their crumbling appearance in history books, they were pristine and straight.

  We were at Stonehenge.

  Courtney Cole 98

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  As we gazed upon it, a reverent hush overtook us. The place was magical, that much was certain. My bloodstone was practically buzzing against my breastbone and I felt the strongest urge to enter the rings. Strangely enough, even though everything else in the land was dead and brown, the grasses inside the ring were vibrant and alive, their green lushness reminding me of what Camelot was meant to be.

  In the center, a wide, flat onyx stone was situated in the sun, glistening as the tiny flecks caught the light. It had been buffed and polished until it was perfectly smooth and I realized with a start that it was an altar. It had never been pictured in history books, because it simply wasn’t there anymore. But it was here now, rising proudly from the ground and my feet felt the urge to begin walking toward it.

  ‚Do you feel that, Heleyne?' Hecate called as she moved to meet it. ‚Do you feel it?'

  ‚Yes,' I answered her and my voice carried across the open meadow, clear and loud. There was something here, something otherworldly that was rippling over me, skimming over my skin, causing my fingertips to tingle. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was powerful. That much was apparent.

  As Hecate trailed her fingers along the black shiny stone, she muttered to herself.

  ‚This place is important,' she whispered. ‚But why?'

  She stopped and laid her hands flat on the stone, closing her eyes as she tilted her face to the sun. Her blonde hair flew in the wind as she concentrated and I noticed with a start, that the wind actually picked up as she touched the stone. My skirts were whirling around my legs.

  Lucan and I silently watched as Hecate moved her lips without making a sound.

  Her shoulders threw back, chest thrust out and her feet were rigid as she saw whatever visions that were being presented to her. The wind picked up into a howl, blowing the tall green grass at our feet into a churning circle. I subconsciously scooted closer to Lucan. It felt as though we were building toward something.

  And then it stopped. The entire meadow grew eerily silent and Hecate opened her eyes. They were pitch black. I gasped as she turned slowly to face me. She opened her mouth to speak and her voice was not her own.

  ‚Harmonia, daughter of Ares and Aphrodite?'

  It was a man’s voice, gravelly and hoarse. Someone was speaking through the witch. My heart picked up a few paces and Lucan reached over to grasp my hand. His eyes were wide, his face a picture of utter shock.

  I nodded. ‚Yes. I am Harmonia.'

  ‚You are the Chosen One?'

  ‚Yes,' I answered quietly, glancing at my birthmark. At this moment, it felt more like a curse as I waited to see what horror I would be facing now.

  ‚We’ve been waiting for you,' Hecate creaked. ‚Approach.'

  Courtney Cole 99

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  She held out her hand, allowing it to linger midair, in a gesture of welcome. I took a tentative step, but Lucan pulled me back.

  ‚My lady, I do not think you should,' he worried. ‚We do not know what this is.

  I’ve never seen such a thing.'

  ‚Neither have I,' I admitted. ‚But I must do it. There is much you don’t understand, good knight. But you will in time.'

  I slipped my hand from his grasp, ignoring his anxious gaze and approached the altar. Hecate took my hand and assisted me onto it, pushing my shoulders until I lay down. Gazing upward, I stared at the gray sky and muted sun for a moment and then closed my eyes, waiting for something to happen.

  Nothing.

  I opened my eyes.

  I was surrounded by ghosts. Hundreds of them were standing in ever-widening circles around us, dressed in clothing from many different ancient eras. Regardless of their differences, however, there was one thing they had in common. They were all warriors. Some were dressed in kilts, some were dressed in trousers, some wore armor, but they all held weapons.

  The sky above us had turned black, blocking even the muted light from the sun. I knew I should be afraid, but I simply wasn’t. I was only expectant, waiting to find out why they were here and what part I played in this. They had been waiting for me for a long time.

  I looked to Hecate and found her eyes closed, but as I watched, a ghost stepped from her body. The voice. It detached itself from her and moved to my side.

  He wore a fierce expression and I could see that his hair was dark red and he wore a shaggy beard. His eyes were black as night and he had a jagged scar running from the corner of his eye down to his pale chin. He reached a ghostly hand out and laid the heel of his palm on my forehead. The cold weight of it pushed my head to the stone beneath me.

  ‚Close your eyes, young one,' he commanded gruffly and I did as he requested, although I wasn’t sure why.

  Immediately, visions filled my head, and suddenly my mind was filled with many truths. Stonehenge had always been. Although no one knew who actually built it, it had always been whispered that Uther Pendragon, Arthur’s father, had created it.

  He had not. I saw that now. But he had used it as a burial ground for 460 great chiefs and warriors from Camelot after they had been slaughtered by Saxons in 410 AD.

  These were the men who surrounded me now, among many others.

  I watched that battle quickly play out in my mind, watched the blood, the tears, the angst. I watched Uther burn their bodies here on the very altar that I was lying upon.

  Courtney Cole 100

  With My Last Breath, Book Three

  And then my visions abruptly shifted. Different images flitted in and out, of many others who had been slain right where I was lying.

  Pagans and druids were sacrificed here. The ancient priestesses felt the magic which emanated from this soil and they had used it as a place of sacrifice. I saw them standing on it, crying to the moon as they burned women alive.

  Kings before Uther had used it as a sacred burial ground... I watched them offer eulogies before they burned the corpses here in the center of the ring. I could smell the smoke, the acrid scent of burning flesh as I watched.

  And then the vision changed once more and I saw my mother. Strapped by leather cords, she was writhing in agony upon the stone. Blood ran from multiple wounds, dripping onto the stone and streaking onto the ground beneath her. I couldn’t see the face of her assailant, and I craned my neck, trying to catch a glimpse. But it was too late. A sword plunged into her chest and she went still as her blood gushed freely around the blade.

  I screamed, my eyes opening, but I was held to the altar by the ghost’s cold hand.

  ‚Stay still, Chosen One,' he instructed. ‚You just saw what will happen if you do not act today. But there is still one more for you to see.' Reluctantly, I closed my eyes once again. />
  This time, it was me on the stone. My face was pale, my cheeks were flushed. And then I realized something startling. I was wearing the same green velvet dress that I was currently wearing. Today, right now. My breathing stilled.

  As I watched in horror, a small hand gripped the hilt of a sword and plunged it into my chest. I curled around it, my eyes opening wide, before I slumped once more back to the stone, my eyelids fluttering closed. As I watched, the child leaped to the altar beside me and covered me in an embrace, blood covering her small body. As she wept, her long hair dangled in the blood and it dripped from the ends of the strands. And then she turned her head and looked into my eyes.

  Raquel.