by Sarah Kleck
“Sally, no, you’re taking this the wrong way. Colin really cares for you. It’s just—”
“What?” she screeched. “Just what’s going on?”
“I . . . I can’t talk about it.” Bloody hell. How dumb did that sound?
“Duh. That’s really original,” Sally said crossly. “I can’t believe you’re trying to babble nonsense, too, Evelyn.”
“Listen, Sally,” I interrupted with a firm voice. This discussion was leading nowhere fast. “Jared’s in bad shape. Colin and I have to help him. Colin’s not contacting you because he doesn’t want to get you involved. He’s totally mad about you. So am I. So calm down and trust me. It’ll all turn out fine!”
Silence. Apparently, we were both surprised by my firm and self-assured tone. Where did I get this sudden certainty, this confidence? Would everything really be all right? I wanted to believe it.
“Sally?”
“Yeah?”
“Please trust me.”
She was silent for a long time.
“Okay,” she finally said.
“I’m sorry about the way things have been lately. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”
Silence.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered with a tear-choked voice.
“Oh, Sally.” I would have loved to hug her.
“It’s okay. It’s fine,” she said, acting strong. “Have you heard about the thing with Felix?”
I frowned. “No, what?”
“He raped a first-term student.”
I was speechless.
“Two days ago. Then he disappeared. The police are looking for him.”
I was so shocked, I couldn’t say a word. We were silent for a while. I clasped my hand over my mouth as tears streamed down my face.
“It’s my fault,” I said.
“Don’t go there, Evelyn.” Sally breathed deeply. “We should have gone straight to the police.” The reproach hung over me like a dark cloud.
“There’s a rumor going about,” she eventually continued, “that the girl’s friend and a few of his buddies went after Felix and he won’t be found any time soon. At least not in one piece . . .”
I swallowed. “So . . . he’s . . . dead, then?”
“No idea. But how bad would that be?”
How bad, indeed. I didn’t know how to feel about it. To be honest, I felt a certain relief that Felix would never be able to hurt anyone again.
“Take care, Evelyn,” Sally finally said.
“You, too—I love you.”
“Is the Jeep ready to go?” Enid asked when we returned to the council chamber a few hours later.
I’d had a lot of time to think about what Sally had told me. Maybe it was better that way. Right now only one thing counted: Jared.
My lot was cast. I wore a tank top, green cargo pants, and a breathable softshell jacket with innumerable small pockets and zippers. I looked down at my black army boots, which still had a hard and stiff feel. I had my hair in a tight ponytail and looked as if I was going to war. It was really starting to feel that way.
“Filled and warmed up,” Gareth answered, giving the key to Enid before Colin took it away from her.
“At least let me drive, if I can’t do anything else,” he said.
“The equipment?” Enid inquired.
Colin held up a high-end black backpack. “Check.”
“Hang on,” Ruth interrupted, pulling the green book from her purse. “I’d like you to take this. It could be very helpful once you’re in Avalon.” She held out the book with a gentle smile.
“Thank you, Ruth,” I said, stashing the volume in the backpack.
“Good,” Enid continued. “We found a map in the library that marks the energy currents leading from here to Glastonbury.”
“The Jeep has a GPS,” Colin said mockingly, earning a severe look from Enid. “Just saying.”
“It’s not just about finding Glastonbury. It’s having the energy current guide us to a magical place,” Irvin explained, but Colin couldn’t help rolling his eyes.
“Are you ready?” Enid gave me a probing look.
“Yes.” I didn’t sound very convincing.
Ruth gently squeezed my arm. “Just go through the portal. You mustn’t doubt, even for a smidgeon of a second—or you’ll fail.”
I nodded and tried to memorize her words. Enid would have preferred not having Ruth along. I’d snorted, shaking my head. Old habits die so hard—once a bunch of paranoid secret hoarders, always a bunch of paranoid secret hoarders.
But I’d insisted Ruth should come along and, in the end, won.
I was just putting on the backpack when I noticed that the room had become strangely silent. I looked around and instantly realized why everyone looked embarrassed and nervous.
Karen Mayflower stood in the doorway of the council chamber, right behind Aiden, staring at me.
The moment I saw her, it was as if a switch flipped inside me. My anger boiled over. My temples throbbed as I charged at her, roughly pushing Aiden aside as he tried to protect his mother. Where did this strength suddenly come from? Not even Colin, who grabbed my arm, could manage to hold me back.
Karen’s eyes widened with shock when I grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. I was delighted to hear the back of her head thump against the hard surface.
“It’s all your fault!” I yelled in her face.
“As high priestess, it was my duty to do everything in my power—”
“Do you still not get it?” I interrupted her. “You made the Prophecy come true!”
“It was my duty—” she started again, but I wasn’t about to listen to her feeble excuses and rationalizations.
“Your duty?” I was beside myself. “You killed my parents and my sister! It’s because of you that Jared . . .” My voice broke with rage and sadness.
“I had to . . . ,” she started again, but I was completely losing control. I heard no apology, no regret, no expression of remorse from her lips. This woman had my family on her conscience, and all she could offer were lame excuses? I took a step back and punched Karen, with full force, in the face. She collapsed to her knees.
Then I felt Colin’s firm grip.
“Come on,” he said softly. “We have to get going.”
CHAPTER 4
“It must be here,” Colin said as he shut off the Jeep and the motor fell silent. The car behind us, holding Gareth, Ian, and Ruth, also came to a stop. I looked around. I couldn’t recognize anything in the headlights’ beams other than thick, white fog.
We had left at about three in the morning to arrive at Glastonbury well before sunrise—in time, before the mist could dissipate.
I shut my eyes and took a moment to focus on what was about to happen. What if I didn’t manage to get through the portal? If it simply wouldn’t open for me? But what if . . . it did? What was waiting for me on the other side? Would the creatures living there really be on my side, as Ruth claimed? Or would they attack me? Would Morgana be the least of my problems? And Jared? Was he still alive? Would I arrive in time? Was I already too late?
I checked my equipment again after the others had gotten out. I’d brought a plain black trekking pack, light as a feather but with enough space for everything I needed for survival—at least for a few days. Some water, some army-ration protein bars, apples, a high-tech pop-up tent folded down to the size of a pineapple, a toothbrush, a change of socks and underwear, a compass that may or may not work in Avalon, a Swiss army knife, the blue-sheen dagger Karen had thrust into Morgana’s arm—the only weapon we knew for sure could injure Morgana—and, of course, Ruth’s green Nimue book.
“Are you ready?” Colin asked, leaning into the car.
“Yes.”
I zipped up the backpack and was about to slip the straps over my shoulders when Colin lifted it out of my hands.
“I’ll take it. You’ll be on your own soon enough,”
he said in a subdued voice. I knew he’d like nothing more than to accompany me, but Ruth clearly thought the portal would only open if I went through it alone. I smiled hesitantly. Colin wasn’t good at sitting around and waiting. He would have preferred to march into Avalon with his mighty sword to chop the head off anyone daring to oppose him. And I would have loved to have him with me.
The walk up the hill seemed to take forever, probably because of the fog—a murky, impenetrable brew. Trying to peer through it made me feel like I was treading on the same spot for hours. No one spoke.
Finally, we arrived at the top. I only noticed when I bumped into Enid.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, running my eyes along the massive wall before us. I raised my head, perplexed. “That’s supposed to be the gate to Avalon?” Not that it wasn’t impressive. On the contrary: a medieval tower reaching skyward, with a gate many feet high, situated on a commanding hill in the middle of nowhere—if that wasn’t awesome, what was? I would not have hesitated for a moment to call this mysterious place “magical,” except . . .
“What did you expect?” Irvin asked.
“I didn’t expect anything in particular, but to me it looks as if this gate, well, leads nowhere.”
Enid, Colin, and Ruth followed me as I walked around the imposing building, and my fears were confirmed when I arrived on the other side. It was just a passage. If you entered on one side, you’d exit on the other. Where was the damned entrance?
“No one said it would be easy—” Enid began.
“Yes,” Irvin confirmed, “but you’re the last of Nimue’s bloodline. If the portal doesn’t open for you . . .” He sounded a little discouraged.
Ruth put her hand on my shoulder. “You mustn’t doubt, or you’ll fail.” Her words sounded both encouraging and urgent.
I breathed in deeply as I tried to internalize what she had said.
“Okay,” Enid decided, “time to say good-bye.”
One after another, they hugged me and whispered into my ear that I would succeed and they’d be waiting for me here when I returned with Jared. Colin held me against his firm chest, and I hung onto him.
“Okay, let go,” I finally said, detaching myself from his embrace. I was afraid I’d lose my composure if he held me any longer.
“Take care of yourself,” he said, making an effort to keep a firm voice.
I nodded, turned around, straightened my shoulders, and walked into the fog.
“I request entry,” I whispered. “In light and love. I request entry.” I felt silly repeating this phrase I had learned by heart. But if it worked . . . “I request entry. In light and love. I request entry.”
Step by step, I walked into the fog.
“I request entry,” I whispered, robot-like. “In light and love.”
When I turned a last time, my companions were only recognizable as silhouettes, while the fog ahead of me became denser and brighter—as if it was illuminated from within. I request entry . . . in light and love.
Then—I had no idea how much time had passed; neither space nor time seemed to exist in this uniform, grayish gruel—the fog gradually lightened. My heart raced. What was waiting for me on the other side? Damnati? Morgana? Or other frightful creatures whose existence I had not yet dared to dream of?
Suddenly I noticed a shadow in the distance. It became clearer with every step I took. Fear gripped my pounding heart. A man. It was a man—there on the other side. He just stood there. Although I was nearly paralyzed by fear, my legs carried me onward, ever onward. The fog almost became transparent, and then I recognized . . .
“Irvin?”
“What was that?” Colin asked, irritated.
“It looks as if she . . . simply . . . walked through it,” Enid said, her voice sounding astonished and incredibly desperate.
I looked around, stunned. “This just can’t be true!” I had really gone in at one end and come out the other. I’d simply walked through the damned gate. I angrily kicked at the dirt.
“Try again,” Irvin encouraged me, but the tremble in his normally controlled voice betrayed his fear that I would not make it.
Ruth nodded.
I furiously clenched my teeth and trudged around the stone monument.
“Focus,” Irvin said in a mantra-like tone, but it was anything but simple to shake off the anger and frustration and to focus on my birthright, as Ruth had called it. Blast, I knew it was my birthright to return to Avalon and, of course, I would once more think of it in light and love and request entry. But that went super well the first time, right? Apart from it not working fifteen centuries ago for Nimue. And if this was the right way, she would have done it, wouldn’t she? I mean, if not her, who? So maybe it was something else that would open this goddamned gate for me. Maybe I shouldn’t even try to fight this anger, hatred, frustration, and burning rage? Maybe I should just admit these feelings? Maybe I should try to force entry with this rage boiling over and this anger burning inside me.
And, by God, I was angry!
Everything, just everything, in my life that meant something to me had been taken from me. Everyone I loved had been torn away while I could only helplessly stand by and watch. No! Not this time! I would not let Jared be taken from me. I would not stand by without doing something, would not let it all just unfold. I would not collapse and wallow in self-pity. No! Those times were gone. For good.
Determined, I set one foot in front of the other. Fists clenched. Teeth clenched. Never again would someone take something I loved from me! Never again! I would get Jared out, and anyone in my way would get to know another side of me. I was Nimue’s heiress. I alone. It was my right to return to this island that Nimue had left long ago. Moreover, it was my island. Avalon belonged to me!
Once more, I immersed myself in the fog. But it was different this time. There was something strange about the mist. The way it curled around my legs and crept up on me almost made it seem alive. Again and again, its plumes wound themselves along my body, ice-cold and unstoppable. I withstood the urge to shake them off and marched on. Wildly determined to save the person who meant the most to me in this world. Who was ready to give his life for mine. And that is what I would do for him now. Jared, I’m coming! I’m coming!
“Colin, don’t! Come back!” I heard someone call from far behind me.
Then I dove into the white fog. Everything was silent.
CHAPTER 5
Um . . . what is that? A woman’s voice humming a song? Yes. Very faintly.
It was both familiar and intimidating. Could Colin hear it? He must have followed me into the fog. I couldn’t risk having the portal close again, so I continued on. Would we meet after the passage? How far was it still? It seemed like I’d been wandering about in this pea soup for hours. I probably had.
There. There it was again. That humming. I thought I recognized the melody, but it was still too faint to place. Was it a . . . lullaby? Yes, a melody I knew but hadn’t heard for ages. Just like the voice humming the melody. An intangible longing arose inside me. But for what?
As I pressed on, the humming grew louder, clearer. It was a woman’s voice, I was sure of that now. One I had known. One that I loved.
I squinted, but nothing was recognizable in the shifting whiteness surrounding me. What if I was going in the wrong direction?
“Eve.”
I froze.
“Eve,” the tender voice whispered again, before resuming its lullaby.
Trembling, I called out, “Who are you?” and then held my breath.
“Don’t be afraid, my darling,” the voice said softly, then continued humming.
Suddenly I recognized the familiar, melodic sound. The sound of the voice that had comforted me, lulled me to sleep, laughed and cried with me, and sung to me.
“Zara?” I barely whispered.
“Don’t be afraid, my darling. I’m with you,” my sister’s voice said. “Nothing can happen to you. I’m watching over you.”
“Where are yo
u?”
“You only had a bad dream.”
“What?” I desperately turned in all directions. I still couldn’t see anything beyond the fog. I peered as hard as I could.
“It was just a dream,” Zara said, gently brushing back my hair.
My eyes widened with fright as I looked into my sister’s beautiful face. I shrank back, realizing after I bumped against the headboard that I was lying in a bed. In my bed. At home. In our flat in Fleetwood. Zara sat, as she so often did when I had a nightmare, by the side of the bed and looked at me tenderly. She gently brushed my face with her fingers.
“Only a dream,” she said again.
“Zara,” I repeated, unable to form a complete sentence.
“Try to sleep a little more,” she said. She was wearing her uniform. “I have to go to work, but I’ll be back when you wake up. We’ll have breakfast together.”
“But you’re . . . Frank Tempton . . . he . . . you’re . . . dead.”
“That dream again?” Her expression was soft and compassionate when she took my face in her hands and looked at me. “That was nothing but a dream, Eve. I won’t leave you alone. You and I—forever. Have you forgotten?”
She smiled.
“You and I—forever,” I repeated. That had been our motto since our parents had died. A promise that we’d always have each other, would always rely on each other.
“Now sleep a little more. I’ll bring some fresh bagels when I come back, okay?” She pressed a smooching kiss on my forehead and got up.
“Zara, wait!” I called after her. She turned back to me. I threw the covers aside, got up, and slowly walked toward her. She looked just as I remembered. That amazing oval, slightly heart-shaped, face with the sincere green eyes. The pointed chin with a hint of cleavage. The dense light-blond hair that fell over her shoulders in gentle waves and reached to her collarbones. I took another step toward her. Could this be? Could all those terrible things have been a dream?
“I missed you so much,” I finally said. Tears streamed from my eyes.
