Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  “Oh no, I can’t do this. But Dylan can,” Sir Dagonet said, not even bothering to moderate his voice. I resisted the urge to reach up and put a hand over his mouth. I let my eyes stray around once again to ensure that no one had heard him.

  “Means he’s all right, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet was saying. “Trying to put it out, wot?”

  “But the rain’s not hard enough,” I whispered back as loudly as I dared. “It’s not enough water to put out this blaze.”

  That sobered Sir Dagonet. “No, you’re right. He must be too tired to really bring on a downpour. Oh, dear. You’re going to have to do something, Scai.”

  “Me? But what can I do?”

  “What? Oh.” Sir Dagonet finally lowered his voice and bent down to whisper in my ear, “Bring on the wind, dear girl. Call it forth to put out the fire. But mind, it’s going to have to be a big one to really do the job.”

  I looked about once again to make sure no one heard, but the people nearest were too busy watching and commenting on the fire to notice what we were saying.

  “I can’t do that! Not here in the middle of this crowd of people. What if someone were to see me, or suspect something? I could...” I couldn’t even say what could happen to me, it was too close, too real. Just the thought terrified me.

  “No, no. Who will know? Do it quietly, wot? Just reach down, right down inside of you, my dear, and bring it forth.”

  Sir Dagonet paused and put his hand on my shoulder. “But just remember, it’s got to be big and all at once. Otherwise it’ll just spread the fire to the other houses nearby.”

  My eyes widened and my mouth fell open a touch in horror. Sir Dagonet nodded at my reaction. I hadn’t even thought of the possibility of spreading the fire, but he was right. I had one chance, or else the whole town could catch fire.

  My heart began to pound in my chest as I wiped my sweaty hands on my dress. “Oh no! Sir Dagonet, no, I couldn’t risk... No, I can’t, honestly I can’t.” I would be caught. I was certain that someone would see me. Even if they didn’t, surely I didn’t have that much magic to bring on a strong enough wind to blow out this enormous fire!

  “Of course you can.” He turned and looked me straight in the eye. “You can do this, Scai. You have the ability. I have faith in you.” He turned and looked up.

  The rain had stopped.

  “And you’d better do it now. That’s not a good sign.”

  My throat began to close up with emotion, and tears burned in my eyes. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t! But if I didn’t, Bridget and Dylan were going to die. I had to. Oh dear God, I had to do it, and I had to do it right the first time. And without anyone knowing it was me—I did not want to be burned at the stake. Standing this close to this burning building was the closest I ever wanted to come to a fire.

  I began to wring my hands but then knotted them together and concentrated. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my whirling mind.

  What had Sir Dagonet told me? Powerful magic took a lot of energy. This was certainly powerful magic if there was any.

  Remembering how Dylan and I had stopped the storm just before we’d reached Gloucester, I closed my eyes and reached down inside of myself. I knew what my magic felt like now. From all over my body, I could feel my energy. Harnessing the magic, I brought it up and into my chest. From there, I imagined it all flowing down into my hands. My fingers tingled, but I kept a tight control over it. I held it back, dredged up some more, and added that to what I had.

  My palms burned with the heat of so much energy. Still, I held on to it and pulled even more from every source I could find—from every part of my body and even from the air all around me. Slowly, ever so slowly, I raised my hands. The burning was intense, but still I held on to it—growing, growing...

  And in one great breath, in one great push, I thrust out my arms—shoving all of that energy at the burning building in one great go. As I did so, my hair went flying and my dress flattened itself against the back of my legs as a huge rush of wind blew from behind me and into the building.

  “What?”

  “Where on God’s mighty Earth did that come from?”

  People exclaimed all around me as they righted themselves after being caught off–guard by the gust of wind. Sir Dagonet caught me from collapsing where I stood.

  “I don’t know, but that did it. Look! The fire’s gone out,” someone close to us shouted.

  And from the gasps grew cheers. Suddenly everyone was yelling and clapping each other on their backs as if they were responsible for the wind that blew the fire out.

  “Well done, oh, I say, well done!” Sir Dagonet said quietly in my ear.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  I gave Sir Dagonet my best smile, but I was so exhausted that even that was an effort. In an instant, Sir Dagonet and I were surrounded by my brothers.

  “Scai! Was that you?” Matthias said with barely restrained enthusiasm.

  “What do you mean? Of course it was, idiot,” Piers said, pushing his brother out of the way so he could give me a hug.

  “That was incredible, Scai,” Thomas said.

  “Completely and wonderfully incredible!” Peter added.

  I was thoroughly overcome, wanting nothing more than to bury my face in Sir Dagonet’s chest and cry my heart out.

  It must have shown on my face, because Thomas put a gentle arm around my shoulders and said, “What is it?” His voice was so full of concern that I had the hardest time not bursting into tears right then.

  I took a deep, shaky breath and looked all around at my brothers and then past them. “So many things,” I whispered. “Everything, really.”

  I looked up into his eyes. “Was it so obvious that it was me who brought the wind? Will you hide me if they come after me? I’m too young to die, yet, Thomas. I’m not ready.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said, with a smile, as if he were trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re not going to die.”

  “But if it was so obvious that I produced the wind, they’ll think I’m a witch and burn me or have me swum,” I whispered. My whole body began to tremble. And the prophecy... it had said I would die young to save others. Was this that? Had I just ensured my own death in order to save Bridget and Dylan?

  Peter scoffed loudly, “How ridiculous you are!”

  “Don’t worry, if anyone tries to harm one hair on your head, we’ll have at them,” Matthias said.

  I gave him a grateful smile, but I still couldn’t stop shaking.

  Thomas gave my shoulders a little squeeze, and added, “If anyone should come after you—which I am certain they won’t—you’ll be safe with us.”

  Gratefully, I rested my head against his shoulder, still looking at the door to the inn. “And Dylan and Bridget still aren’t here. Maybe you should...”

  But then the door flew open and Dylan came staggering out, Bridget unconscious in his arms.

  All of the brothers rushed to them, except Thomas. Luckily, he continued to hold on to me, even though I could feel him start then restrain his desire to dash forward with the others.

  “Bridget!”

  “My God, what happened to her?”

  They all started talking at once, questioning Dylan, who looked ready to collapse. Piers managed to take Bridget before any of his brothers. Gently, he held her cradled in his arms.

  Dylan, relieved of his burden, stood panting in the fresh air, his hands on his knees.

  “Got hit,” he rasped, his voice rough with the smoke. He swallowed hard. “Got hit on the head by a falling beam,” he just managed to croak out.

  “Come on, let’s get her home,” Peter said, trying to guide his twin in that direction.

  “Yes, let’s get you all home,” James echoed.

  “Are you all right to walk, Scai?” Thomas asked me.

  “Yes, I think so, I’m just very tired.”

  “’Course you are, my dear, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, coming around and supporting my othe
r arm.

  <><><>

  “How could she?” Nimuë growled. “How could she have escaped? And the other ones as well!”

  Nimuë prowled around her room like an animal in its cage.

  “They are very strong, aren’t they?” Morgan asked.

  Nimuë took another turn around the room and tried to ignore her sister. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “I can accept that they escaped from my hurricane—they worked together and managed to stop it. But my ravens should not have failed, and they would not have if it had not been for that other hawk. Who was that and why was it protecting the girl?”

  Morgan was silent. So Nimuë took another turn around the room. “And the redhead was mine! She was unconscious, and mostly by her own hand too. I needed only to get her out of there, which I could have done easily... but, no, that tiresome boy and his sense of chivalry or whatever that was. He had to go back in there and pull her out.”

  “You could have had them both.” Morgan was deliberately goading her.

  “It would have been perfect.”

  “But once again, Scai came to the rescue.”

  Nimuë nearly growled in her anger.

  “You have to admit her magic was impressive,” Morgan went on. “Calling for a gust of wind. And it was strong. Strong enough to put out the blaze without spreading it.”

  She hated it—and never in her life would she admit as much to her sister—but Nimuë had been impressed.

  “It should not have happened!” Nimuë slammed her fist down onto the table. Her silver bowl rattled with the force of the blow, spilling some of the precious water of Avalon. Nimuë steadied the bowl in her hands.

  “Temper, my dear sister, temper,” Morgan said, trying to hold back her laughter and being completely unsuccessful.

  “Why am I unable to capture these three? They are children.”

  “You said yourself that they are not,” Morgan pointed out.

  Nimuë waved a hand. “To me they are no more than children. Twenty years of age.” She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so angry—and concerned.

  But then she realized she had not had to trick anyone in this manner for some time.

  Yes, that must be it. She was out of practice. That was all. She was simply out of practice.

  Merlin had been so easy—but then, he had known what was coming.

  “This is not a problem,” Nimuë told Morgan. “Not at all.” She stood in front of the silver bowl and looked down at her sister’s shimmering image within it. “I will simply have to work a little harder. Be a little more clever, a little more cunning to deal with these three young adults.” She practically sneered the word. “I assure you, this is not a problem.”

  <><><>

  I lay down gently next to Bridget while Joan fussed over us both. Bridget had come to during the walk home and had immediately insisted that she could walk the rest of the way by herself. Her brothers would have none of it.

  Cold water was applied to Bridget’s head while she concentrated her energies on healing herself. Oddly enough, she wasn’t burnt at all. It was just the bump on her head that was bad. I simply needed rest.

  “Thank goodness she’s got the power of healing,” Matthias said, standing at the foot of the bed and grinning down at his sister.

  Peter laughed, but Joan shooed them out of the room. “You leave these girls to rest,” she said, closing the door on their protests.

  Thomas stayed, sitting by my side of the bed while his wife continued to place cold compresses on Bridget’s head. Bridget just lay there with her eyes closed, so I didn’t know if she was awake or not.

  It was a little disturbing seeing Bridget so still. I didn’t think I had ever seen her not moving or animated. I turned to Thomas and whispered, “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”

  My brother gave me a reassuring smile. “I think so. I’ve never seen Bridget down for long. I’m sure she’ll be up and making us crazy sooner than we’d like.”

  “I heard that,” Bridget mumbled.

  I laughed as a whoosh of relief flowed through me.

  Looking from Bridget back to Thomas again, I still could hardly believe where I was and who I was with—they were my brother and sister! I closed my eyes a moment in prayer to thank God for this wonderful, no, incredible gift He had given me.

  Blinking hard once or twice to clear the tears from my eyes when I opened them again, I reached out and took Thomas’s hand. His eyes immediately turned from Bridget back to me. They softened, and yet looked inquiringly. “I just wanted to truly thank you,” I said quietly, so as not to disturb Bridget again.

  “Thank me? For what?”

  I gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. For accepting me. For being my brother. For everything, really.”

  His eyes became a little shinier as he squeezed my hand. “I told you before, you have no need to thank me, Scai. You are my sister; there is no doubt about it. Even if you didn’t look like us, I’d be able to feel it.” He gave a little shrug. “I’m not a very powerful Vallen like you and Bridget, but I know my own sister when I meet her.”

  Such a feeling of love washed over me. A feeling—no, a knowledge—that no matter what, I would always be able to count on Thomas, or any one of my brothers. They would always be there for me. I swallowed hard at the lump that had suddenly tightened in my throat.

  “I’m just sorry our parents didn’t live to see you return to us,” he said quietly, turning his eyes back to Bridget.

  “What happened to them?” I asked.

  “Mother died in childbirth with Bridget, and Papa, well, he just wasted away after that. He worked so hard to feed us all and take care of us, but without Mother’s support...” Thomas shrugged.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said and, indeed, I felt a hollowness in my stomach at the loss of someone I had never known.

  “If it hadn’t been for Bridget, I’m sure we would have all starved or lived like pigs. She has taken care of us ever since she could walk, practically.” He laughed while looking down at his frowning sister who still hadn’t opened her eyes.

  Thomas gave a little smile, squeezing my hand again before standing up. “You need to get some rest and we need to stop disturbing Bridget.”

  <><><>

  I awoke to the sound of men’s voices. For a moment I lay there not remembering where I was, but a movement drew my attention. Bridget was stirring next to me.

  I propped myself up on my elbow so I could look out the window and try to gauge how long I’d been asleep. It must be near evening, I realized, not because of the shadows that I could hardly make out, but because of the rumbling in my stomach. I was absolutely famished, as if I hadn’t eaten in a week.

  The men’s voices grew louder, as if they were arguing. Bridget sat up with a grumble and then held her hand to her head for a moment.

  “Are you all right? Can I get you...”

  “No, I’m fine. I just sat up too fast, that’s all,” she said, not even turning around. She stood and wobbled to the door, calling, “All right, all right. Stop arguing and just tell me what it is already.”

  There was immediate silence as she took a step out the door and into the common room to which all of the other rooms in the house were connected.

  I scrambled up and followed Bridget out.

  Our brothers and Sir Dagonet were all there, some seated, some standing. It looked like a still–life painting—Peter had even stopped somewhere in between sitting and standing. I burst out laughing at the sight.

  Bridget turned to me with a smile. “Yes, they are rather ridiculous, aren’t they?”

  Peter finished standing up and moved away from the chair he had been sitting in. “Sit down, Bridget, before you fall down.”

  “I’m not going to fall down, idiot. I’m perfectly all right.” But she took his seat anyway.

  Thomas glared at Matthias, who reluctantly stood up and offered his chair to me. I was happy to take it since I was feeling a little light–hea
ded.

  “Now, what are you all arguing about?” Bridget asked, taking command of the situation.

  “Nothing,” Thomas said.

  “Nothing at all,” the rest of the men concurred.

  Bridget just looked at me as if to say “Can you believe this?”

  I laughed again, but this time I tried to hide it.

  “Not very convincing, are we, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, laughing as well.

  “Not at all,” Bridget agreed, beginning to giggle, too.

  “Well, it’s just that...” Peter started, but Piers smacked the side of his head and he shut up.

  “We might as well tell them,” Matthias argued. “They’re going to find out anyway, and as Sir Dagonet said, it concerns them so they have a right to know.”

  “You’re damn right we have a right to know!” Bridget said vehemently.

  “Bridget! Your language,” Joan admonished.

  “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  The men all looked at each other, figuring out who was going to be the one to talk. James finally stood up.

  “I went to see Old Maud about this chalice of Merlin’s to see if I could learn any more about it,” he began.

  I took a quick look around. Dylan wasn’t there. He must not have followed us home after the fire.

  Bridget leaned forward. “What did you learn?”

  James glanced at Thomas, who gave a small nod of his head. “Well, she couldn’t tell me much more about the chalice specifically, but she did tell me more of the prophecy, which was apparently made a very long time ago.” He sat down again on the arm of the chair Thomas was sitting in. “Apparently, our mother was extremely worried about this so she went to discuss it with Old Maud to try to decide what to do.”

  “What was the prophecy, James? Just spit it out,” Bridget said, losing patience with his long–winded tale.

  He looked at her and frowned. “There were a few parts to it. One was the bit about Scai,” he said, looking back at me. “That we already knew about.”