Arthur held up his hands for quiet. “Protectors, you will take the rear while my people go ahead. We will be travelling via the Path, but Goodfellow has informed me that the closest it will bring us to the Bellagio is about a block north of it. Once we’re on the ground, fan out to avoid alarming the Mundanes, but keep in view of one another. We don’t expect to meet any resistance until we reach the hotel.”
“There’s a Path nearby?” I whispered to Peter.
He snorted. “How do you think Arthur got here so fast?”
Arthur continued, “We know the attack at the fountains was a ruse to draw us out. The Questing Beast is a fearsome foe. Our purpose is to give Robin Goodfellow enough time to find the Path which leads to the Grail. Your mission will be to draw the beast away so that we can enter and find it. Don’t engage the creature if you can help it.” He nodded to Taliesin. “We leave now!”
I followed Peter to a position just behind Arthur, Taliesin, Daley, and Tynan. Titania and Miko were behind us. Goodfellow took the lead flanked by Bedivere and the ginger-haired woman. One by one, we filed outside and began walking.
“Where’s this Path?” I asked, not too pleased that no one had ever bothered to tell me we were practically sitting on top of one.
Peter’s chuckle only annoyed me further. “Just keep walking.”
When we reached the end of the driveway, Goodfellow placed a hand on each side of the iron gate and pushed. As those in front of us walked through, they disappeared. Peter walked backwards into thin air, winking at me before vanishing.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Taking a deep breath, I stepped through.
And almost walked straight into a woman teetering down the sidewalk in four inch heels. “Sorry!” I apologized quickly when she glared at me. Even though it was early Christmas morning, and still dark, Las Vegas was a city that didn’t sleep. People still roamed the streets, most in party mode, so the sudden appearance of a small army didn’t attract too much attention.
“Where are we?”
Peter pointed at the winged statue rising from the circular pond in front of a huge Christmas tree. Behind it was one of the largest hotel/casinos. Caesars Palace was written in light on the side.
“Keep moving,” Titania commanded after she and Miko came through. “This isn’t a sight-seeing tour.”
Even with the darkness making the world unfamiliar, the Bellagio was easy to spot. Police cars and emergency vehicles were still parked outside, not to mention several news station vans. I was just wondering how we were going to get anywhere near the fountains when a policeman stepped over the crime scene tape and approached Taliesin.
“Officer Prescott,” the bard greeted him.
“Mr. Taliesin. The mayor said you would be on your way. I take it this is under your jurisdiction then?”
“If you don’t mind, Officer.”
“It’s all yours. Just give me something I can use this time. And don’t say a gas leak; we’ve gone to that well too many times.”
“We will think of something.”
The officer nodded. “You want us to clear out? It might look fishy to the Press.”
“Having everyone move back should be sufficient as long as we have unobstructed access to the fountains and no clear sightline on us.”
“How long do you need?”
Taliesin shared a look with Arthur. “I think an hour will give us enough time.”
The officer sighed and then began motioning to the crowd. “All right everyone, listen up! We need you to move back at least fifty yards from the crime scene for your own safety! We have a potential gas leak on the site!” He glanced at Taliesin and shrugged. “Oldies but goodies.”
It took a few minutes for the reporters to gather their equipment into their vans and move down the street. There wasn’t too much grumbling; in a twenty-four hour news cycle, this one was already getting old. The bodies had been taken away and there was nothing left to photograph except chalk outlines on the ground. The reporters continued to busy themselves interviewing witnesses a safer distance away, but I wondered how Taliesin would ever cover the story up, even with the help of the local authorities. Miko, Titania, and the other Protectors had created a loose line to block the sight of our activities from any overly curious bystanders. The police made a second line a few yards away from that.
Arthur was peering into the huge pool that housed the Bellagio’s fountains. “Rhiannon,” he called, “come here and show me where you saw the Grail.”
But I couldn’t move. I was staring at a small chalk outline and a tiny shoe forgotten on the ground. There was a terrible pain over my heart. A gasp made me look up; Tynan had his hand to his chest and his face was pale. I felt the magic which had replaced his heart beat a fraction of a second after mine.
I couldn’t stop staring into his dark eyes. “This is my fault.” I didn’t know if I was telling him or myself.
Arthur strode over to stand in front of me, breaking the connection with Tynan. “You didn’t do this. That creature did. Tell us again what you remember, so we can stop it.”
Some of his great confidence and majesty slipped through the barrier of our skins. Strengthened by the royal amethyst of his power, I was able to step away from the sad little memorial. Arthur guided me back to the pool and Peter followed, but Tynan remained standing over the chalk outline.
Goodfellow acknowledged my arrival then resumed gazing into the water. The police had put up portable work lights for the retrieval of the bodies and examination of the crime scene. Between them and the Bellagio’s own lights, it was difficult to see the bottom of the pool clearly.
The Green Man appeared troubled. “There’s something strange here. It’s not a Path exactly, and yet . . . Rhiannon, what did you see?”
I put my hands on the edge and leaned over, recreating the memory. “There was gold on the bottom. I thought it was from coins that tourists throw in, but when I looked closer, I could see the Grail. Fire was burning in it. It had to have been a vision. It couldn’t have been real.” I trailed my hand across the water, but nothing appeared beneath it.
Peter snorted impatiently. “Well something came out of there and killed a bunch of people! If it’s not a Path, then what is it?”
Goodfellow shook his head. “I could be wrong, but I think it’s a back door.”
“A back door to where?” Arthur demanded.
“Avalon.”
A sudden commotion down by the police line caught my attention and I looked up to see Redcap struggling to get through, pulling Cleo after him.
“Rhiannon! It’s a trap! Get away!” He broke through the line just as the head of a giant snake surged out of the water. I stared at it, transfixed as it darted towards me. The jaws opened and fastened on my forearm, pulling me down into the pool.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BERRY
The Questing Beast dragged me deeper than was possible in the Bellagio’s pool and then back up through flowing water that could only be a river. It deposited me near the bank and then climbed out, keeping its distance but regarding me steadily. Pulling myself up onto the grass, I lay there coughing and sputtering until I could breathe again. My arm ached a little, but otherwise, I wasn’t hurt.
Just as I was starting to get bored playing the staring game with a monster, Goodfellow appeared out of thin air and stepped out of the water followed by Arthur, Taliesin, Peter, Daley, and Tynan. The sour thought crossed my mind that having the Lord of the Paths with you meant you didn’t have to be half-drowned to pass through whatever it was we’d just come through.
“Are you all right?” Peter rushed over, but I put my hand up to stop him from helping me stand.
“Nothing a little CPR won’t fix.”
The Questing Beast lifted its head and made a noise almost impossible to describe. The closest would be to say it sounded like a pack of Cŵn Annwn were trapped in its belly and trying to chew their way out. A shimmer enveloped it as the snake head, leopard body, lion
legs, and cloven hooves contracted into the shape of a dark-skinned woman with long black braids.
Rolling her head and shoulders, she appeared relieved to have changed forms. When she noticed us staring, her smile was friendly, but she ducked her head shyly. “Greetings to you all. I am Dindrane,” she said graciously. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to these shores on the borders of Avalon.” Her mouth tightened. “This is the domain of the Fisher King. Please come with me. My master is waiting for you farther downstream.”
I didn’t care how pleasant the woman sounded, I could still feel the imprint of her fanged mouth on my arm. “I don’t think so! I’m not going anywhere with you! You killed those people . . .” I couldn’t continue; the memory of that small shoe had closed my throat.
The woman turned gracefully towards me, any trace of the monster hidden. “When I am not Dindrane, I am the Questing Beast, but my only glory is in the hunt. When those you are concerned for are taken away, after only a short time they will appear as normal again. All is illusion.” Her shape flickered, allowing me to see the beast beneath for a moment. “Prey is limited here on the edges of the Grey Lands; there is only the hunt and capture, the catch and release. I am the Questing Beast.”
“Yeah, you said that already,” I muttered. I wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but the nervous way she kept glancing over her shoulder didn’t reassure me.
“Please come. It was my lord’s desire to draw you here. I had no choice but to obey. He is waiting for your arrival.”
Peter and I shared a look. “So it was a trap then.”
“Of sorts.”
“And I bet you’re going to tell me it’s for my own good and that no harm will come to me here.”
The woman’s gaze was dark and steady. “No. There is much peril here. I cannot say for certainty that any of you will survive it.
Great.
Arthur stepped forward. “Lead on then.” But he kept his hand hidden underneath his coat where I suspected he carried his own weapon. I longed for Excalibur instead of the gun in my back pocket.
As we followed Dindrane, I took the opportunity to look around. We were in a very different place from where the Mari Lwyd had taken me, though the grey cliffs peeking through the mist in the distance could possibly be the same ones. Here, the grassy banks and trees appeared lush at first, but on closer inspection were dusty and beginning to wilt. When I kneeled down and ran my hand across the blades of grass, several crumbled away to dust under my fingers. Even the water in the river didn’t seem to reflect the weak sunshine the way it should; there was no sparkle in it. The air was odorless, and neither warm nor cold, but I was already as dry as if I’d never been submerged in water.
We rounded a bend in the river to see a red and gold roofed pavilion standing in a clearing. Beneath it, an elderly, white-haired man was sitting in a low-slung chair. He was fishing. Looking up at our approach, his face split into a child-like grin. Hooking his rod to a holder on his chair, the man limped over to greet us.
“Arthur! Taliesin! You can’t know what it means to me to see you both after all these years! Dindrane, don’t just stand around gawking. Fetch us some refreshments.” When he spoke to the woman, his voice became petulant and demanding. I noted the way her shoulders stiffened as she walked out of sight over a rise.
“Come! Sit!” The man motioned to several gilded chairs surrounding a small table.
Arthur approached cautiously. “Do I know you, sir?”
The man’s face fell. “Don’t you know me, my king?”
Frowning, Arthur stared at him until understanding passed over his features. “Galahad?”
The white-haired man was delighted again. “Yes, it’s me! Isn’t it amazing that we should meet here after all these years?”
“Yes, amazing,” Taliesin murmured. “Where are we exactly?”
An expression something less than child-like flickered over Galahad’s face. “Well you’ve been here before, Taliesin. You should recognize the place.” When the bard just looked at him, Galahad gestured impatiently in the direction Dindrane had gone. “Go take a look then.”
Taliesin walked out from under the pavilion and the rest of us followed. Galahad limped along after. I noted that his one leg was bound around the thigh with thick bandages, but faint traces of blood appeared to be seeping through.
At the top of the hill, we had a clear view for miles around. Directly in front of us, a stone path led to a white castle surrounded by lawns and ornamental shrubs. Beyond the castle, the path disappeared into mist which gave fleeting glimpses of a land of ashy rose and moth-wing green, silver and chrome, glittering obsidian and dove grey. It was both beautiful and wrong.
The Grey Lands of Avalon.
“So you are the Fisher King. And you have lured us to Avalon.”
Galahad laughed. “Yes, Dindrane tells me that’s what they call me. But no, we’re not in Avalon exactly. Just on the border.” He turned back towards the river at the bottom of the rise. “This is a place where our world and Avalon overlap and bleed into one another. Merlin uses it to escape, but he’s always drawn back. There’s a spell that prevents him from leaving permanently. Sometimes humans stumble through by accident as well.” He gave me a sidelong look. “But they can never stay for long.”
Goodfellow stepped forward. “Which begs the question, Fisher King, how did you come to find this place?” His voice deepened dangerously. “And where’s my Guide you tricked into bringing you here?”
Galahad cackled. “The Guide you lent me had a secret. Her name was Yglais. Did you even know that, Lord Forest?”
“I remember Yglais,” Goodfellow growled.
“A pretty girl she was—a wood sprite, I believe.” Galahad clucked his tongue. “She was abused by her own brother, the poor thing. When she became pregnant, she hid the child here after it was born. It was a monster, you see, but she couldn’t destroy it. Even when it sometimes escaped and drew the attention of the Earth King. When I asked Yglais to find me a secret place, she knew just where to bring me.”
“And where’s Yglais now?”
The man’s eyes darted away. “Oh, here and there. Come back to the castle with me. It will be easier to explain when you see.”
“See what?” Arthur asked.
The Fisher King blinked slowly. “Why, the Grail, of course. That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it?”
Goodfellow frowned. “I’ll stay here until Yglais returns.”
“All right, all right.” Galahad waved him away. “I’m sure she’ll be along soon.”
We followed the Fisher King down the path towards the castle. As we walked, the man’s limp became more pronounced and the bandage became soaked with blood. He didn’t slow to check on it but quickened his pace.
Arthur looked at him with concern. “What happened to you, my son?” It was so strange to hear him say that to someone who looked decades older.
The man grimaced. “Do you remember when we were last together? Fleeing our defeat in Avalon? I was badly wounded, but I hid it from you, so desperate to be your brave, pure knight.” There was a twist in his voice. “When we returned home, the healer told me the wound was mortal, but I refused to believe him. Received in a supernatural place, I was sure that supernatural means could heal it. By then, I’d guessed the nature of the vessel that Taliesin had claimed as his spoil from the war. Before I could tell you, you were attacked by Mordred.” He waggled his fingers at Tynan. “Hello there, by the way young man. It’s nice to see you two have made up.”
We had arrived at the castle. Dindrane opened the doors and ushered us into the Great Hall where refreshments were laid out on tables. As Galahad brushed by her, she couldn’t hide a shudder.
“Please,”—he gestured to the tables—“have something to eat and drink while I finish my tale.” When no one moved, he sighed. “Very well, story first, food later. As I was saying, I realized we’d found the Cauldron of Bran, or the Grail as it’s called now, but I was
no longer sure of Taliesin’s loyalties.” He inclined his head towards the bard. “You surprised me by agreeing so easily to give it up.”
“I did not know its true nature.” Taliesin’s voice was hard. “You were the youngest and most gallant of Arthur’s knights. Why didn’t you heal your king after you healed yourself?”
The man’s mouth set in an ugly expression. “Do I look healed to you, Taliesin? I didn’t know it at first, but since my wound was both mortal and supernatural, the Grail could only extend my life, not heal me. I must drink from it once every year or I will die a death whose agony will be multiplied each year I’ve cheated it.”
When he turned to me suddenly, his expression changed to one of innocent glee. “Do you want to see it?”
“Of course,” I murmured. When he grabbed my hand to pull me forward, I noted with distaste how long and curved the yellow nails on his hand were.
The Fisher King dragged me to the back of the room where a tapestry covered part of the wall. He motioned impatiently for Dindrane to push it aside. As she pulled it along the rod, an alcove in the wall was revealed. The Grail sat in it. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Dindrane.
The tapestry must have had a binding spell woven into it, because I couldn’t feel the Grail’s pull until it was pushed aside. Now it beat at me with waves of fire.
“Look inside,” Galahad whispered.
I knew the others had gathered behind me, but it felt as if I was alone in the world with the Grail. Without conscious thought, I cupped my hands underneath it and looked into its depths. Immediately, I was surrounded by a ring of fire. At my feet was a shallow pool of water no more than a foot in diameter. Gold walls rose around me.
Just as I’d somehow understood Excalibur’s true nature, I understood the Grail too. When I released it, I was in my own body again. I took a step back, fighting the Grail’s pull.
I looked at Galahad. “Why hasn’t Merlin taken it from you?”
The man cackled again as if I’d just said the funniest thing in the world. He gestured wildly in the general direction of Avalon. “You’ve seen the Grey Lands. Haven’t you guessed? He’s sucked it dry for millennia. Now he’s a fat spider imprisoned at the center of a web of his own making. He’s full; ripe to bursting. His people are too afraid of his power to rise up against him, and he’s too afraid to use his power and weaken himself. The Grail is no use to him.” The man limped to me and I had to force myself not to flinch when he ran a finger down my cheek. “Merlin is taunted by the bright, shiny world beyond the Wall, and he’s desperate for the power running through it, even though he knows even just a little bit more will destroy him. But a long time ago, he had an idea. What if he could create a nice, plump receptacle for all his power needs?” Galahad leered at me. “Think of it as a battery filled with magic. With one of those, Merlin could absorb all the magic in all the world, funneling it into a container he could access any time he needed. But he needs a special battery; one he’s attuned to through blood.”
Sword of Elements Series Boxed Set 2: Bound In Blue, Caught In Crimson & To Make A Witch Page 37
