Give us control, came a voice. We will destroy her.
Instantly, Una’s mind came crashing back to the present. No, she could not let her magic have control. That thought had been what brought her back to reality, the sheer panic of letting her magic loose again.
Grimacing she wrestled for control of her own mind, desperate to cling to anything, anyone that would help.
An image of George swam into her mind, not leud like many of the other thoughts that crowded her under Acrasia’s influence, but gentle. She thought of his lopsided smile, of his ears that stuck out just a little too much, contrasted by his well-muscled physique and perfect fighting style. Yet it had been his imperfection that had attracted her to him, his vulnerability, that tiny part of him that made him so devoted.
And then there was Guyon, a far more perfect man than Una liked for herself at least, but still good. If they got out of this alive, she would cherish that friendship. Between both knights, she had more family than she ever had before. She knew now that her parents had not been good, and had even started this whole business of breaches that brought in spawn from the Otherworld. People and monsters like Acrasia.
If she was to get out of this situation, it would be for her newfound family. For George, and for Guyon.
Give us control, repeated the voices.
No, Una thought. You will give me control.
Seizing her magic, she let it fill her, let its power sweep away the cloudiness that hung over her mind. Immediately, all went right, and she could think clearly again. The room seemed to darken as ecstasy fell away.
Only half sure of what she was doing, she brought her magic to bear, creating a sort of mental shield around herself, one that would protect her from similar onslaughts, should Acrasia attack again. Elation filled her as she successfully guided her power. Perhaps she could control it after all.
“Hm,” Acrasia put a finger to her lips as if in thought. “You have come prepared.”
It was only then that Una finally noticed Guyon, as she had been too caught up in protecting herself with her magic that she hadn't had time to look. He stood as straight as ever, completely unphased by Acrasia’s magical attack. The light from the amulet on his chest blazed like never before, shining a clear blue-green light across the room. Most who came under its light shied away from it. All save Acrasia herself and the large knight who stood guard by her bed. Una glanced at that one. There was a man in there, right? He hadn’t moved a muscle since they entered.
“You think the Amulet of Odysseus will save you?” said Acrasia, amused. “I was tempting the hearts of men long before Odysseus was even a glimmer in his parents’ eye.”
“The amulet has served me well,” said Guyon in a clear voice. “But it is not magical toys that will defeat you, but men. Men who will not bow to their baser instincts.”
Acrasia took a step forward. “Come now, you think I haven’t heard that from countless men through the ages. All come to me eventually. It is only a matter of time. Pellinore?”
The silent knight suddenly turned his visor to look at his mistress. Even as he did so, Una’s heart skipped a beat. Pellinore…
The knight removed his helmet and came to stand by Acrasia’s side. The face that met them was a face Una would never have forgotten in a million years. A man with dark brown hair and matching pointed beard. He was slightly older, with a few flecks of gray on his dark beard, but it was clearly the same man she’d met all those years ago, the man responsible for imprisoning her in a Roman debtor’s prison.
“Yes, my lady,” he said in that same deep, commanding voice Una had learned to hate.
“Take care of the knight, would you?” she said in a silken tone.
Pellinore replaced his helmet. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Pellinore,” said Guyon. “You’ve been placed under a spell. Remember your people, they need you.”
But Pellinore was not listening. With his helmet securely in place, he pulled forth an enormous broadsword and took several running steps towards Guyon before swinging.
Guyon stepped out of the way just in time, using his own sword to guide the downward motion of Pellinore’s attack just enough out of the way that he had a chance to escape.
Una stood rooted to the spot. She had her own problems now. Even as she watched the battle begin, she was dealing with her own inner battle.
Kill him! Shouted every single voice in her head. Kill him, kill him, killhimkillhimkillhimkillhim!!”
Something reached for her magic, a force stronger than anything Una had ever experienced. It was a vice, but also a flood. It filled her until she thought she might burst. It grasped for her magic.
NO! She shouted into her own mind. She could not lose control.
YOU WANT HIM DEAD! screamed the voices. LET US HAVE HIM!
And they were right. She did want Pellinore dead. She had wanted him dead for years, spending much of her time in the cell wondering what she might do if she ever had the chance for revenge again. She’d blamed a lot of people. The Roman Tribune, the jailor, Arthur, even Ector and Kay for not thinking to look for her after she’d disappeared.
But none deserved her grudge more than Pellinore. For Arthur and his family, at least they had an excuse. Arthur had recently pulled the sword from the stone and their entire lives had erupted into chaos, including an assassination attack. Pellinore had been the one to order that attack. Una had been there, and she’d tried to stop it. Doing so had resulted in her imprisonment, and she was lucky it hadn’t resulted in her death.
Pellinore was a villain. He deserved punishment for his crimes. He deserved death.
“Yes,” said a voice, though this one was not like the others in her head. It was clearer, and it didn’t sound like Una’s own voice. Una’s eyes fixed ahead to see Acrasia staring at her, her gaze coolly regarding Una’s own internal struggle. “You hate that man, don’t you. You have the power, why not give into it?”
Yes, give us control, yelled the voices.
But Una held off. Yes, she wanted Pellinore dead, but she wanted mastery of herself more. And something told her the results of lashing out would not be what she expected, especially with Acrasia encouraging her.
“You have great power,” said Acrasia, though her lips did not move. “Raw power. It’s difficult to control, isn’t it?”
Una stayed silent, too caught up wresting control from the voices in her head to warrant a response. Acrasia was right though, and she knew it.
A smile formed on Acrasia’s lips. “I could teach you. Few are more skilled in the ways of magic than beings such as myself.”
“I...don’t need your help,” said Una. Had she spoken out loud or was she also communicating with Acrasia telepathically? Honestly, she was too engaged in her own mental struggle to notice.
Regardless, Acrasia smiled and answered. “Don’t you want to know more of who you are?”
Una hesitated, and so, it seemed, did her magic. The voices went silent, no longer screaming for Pellinore’s death. Their attention, as well as Una’s was now focused on Acrasia.
Acrasia’s smile widened. “Yes, I thought that would get your attention. I’ve been watching you for some time.” When Una’s eyebrows knit in confusion, Acrasia went on to say, “Remember the frantic woman telling you that all her townspeople were slaughtered?”
Una’s eyes widened slightly. “That was you?”
“Oh yes,” Acrasia produced a gold coin as if out of nowhere. “You gave me this and told me to find another one in the town.”
“You killed all those people.”
“They attacked me.”
The clang of sword on sword continued as Guyon and Pellinore fought, but Una almost didn’t hear it. All her attention was now on the Sin of Lust.
“Why were you watching me?”
Acrasia shrugged. “Your power and potential are known to all of us. Duessa saw to that. And after the defeat of the dragon and your closing of the rift, all of us want to mak
e sure we know everything about you.”
“And you say you know why I have this power?”
“You are of the old blood,” Acrasia grinned mischievously. “And I believe I know where that blood comes from.”
Una’s entire being remained still. Every part of her, even her magic, was hanging on every word coming out of Acrasia’s mouth.
“Tell me,” she pleaded, when Acrasia did not continue.
“The others doubt me, but I know better. They haven’t watched you like I have these past weeks. Your power is strong, far stronger than most, even of the old blood. With enough training you might even be stronger than that magician, Merlin, or perhaps even stronger than the Faerie Queen herself.”
“Tell me,” Una repeated with a little more insistence.
Acrasia went on as if she hadn’t heard. “Your mother was not old blood, obviously,” said Acrasia, offhandedly. “Which means that whoever your father was, he must be of a pure line, and a powerful one at that, given your own abilities. Once I thought it through, there really was only one option.”
“Tell me!” Una shouted, and this time she spoke out loud, the words ringing though the hall. Everyone turned to look at her save Guyon and Pellinore, who were still engaged in a dynamic struggle.
Acrasia smiled that sweet, seductive smile. “I will tell you. But only if you agree to be my pupil, to serve me and learn how to control your power. You find out your parentage and learn to master your abilities, and I gain a rather significant advantage above my peers. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
Frustration rose inside Una. The answer to her father’s identity was here, and yet Acrasia would not reveal it. It was so close, right within Una’s grasp. And she could take it if she wanted.
We must know, said the voices in unison. She will teach you the ways of magic. You will become more powerful than anyone in Britain. Accept and we will know all.
It was tempting, oh it was so tempting. The only thing she wanted more than learning to control this tempest inside of her was to learn the identity of her father. Both were things Acrasia could give her, both were just within reach.
Yes, Acrasia had done things that were horrible, killed people. Yet perhaps if Una could learn from her, she’d be powerful enough to stop Acrasia from doing any more harm. She could soak in the knowledge, then turn it against Acrasia, against all of the Deadly Sins. Could she do that and yet remain herself?
“I…” she said, looking around the room as if searching for answers in its walls. “I…”
She didn’t know what to say. Yet every instinct, every deep desire, told her to accept Acrasia’s offer. Perhaps she should. Yes, perhaps she should.
34
Guyon dodged a massive swipe from Pellinore, one that would have taken his head had he been there when the stroke arrived. He was barely managing to hold his own against the big man, but only just. His own sword was smaller, barely able to withstand the blows from such a heavy weapon. And his shield was bulky, slowing him down more than he liked. Guyon was used to fast combat. He was naturally quick, and right now he needed that advantage. Yet his shield had saved him on more than one occasion and he wasn’t quite ready to give it up just yet.
Pellinore brought his sword down again and again, saying nothing as he attacked. His face could have been made from stone. The man was clearly under some kind of spell, one that slaved him to Acrasia’s will. Yet there had to be a way to beat it. Even given the circumstances, Guyon would never admit that free will could be totally overridden by magic. Influenced, yes, but never erased entirely. There had to be something of the real Pellinore buried inside of him.
“Come, Pellinore,” he grunted as he blocked another attack. “This isn’t you. I’m a Briton, I’m on your side.”
To his surprise, Pellinore answered in-between swings. “I tried uniting the Britons once. I failed. There is little left to me but service to my mistress.”
“You came closer than anyone before you,” said Guyon. “You are not a failure.”
“You do not know me.”
Actually, Guyon knew him probably better than most, thanks to what Una had told him. In all actuality, he knew Pellinore was not a good man, or at least that had once been the case. He had tried to order an assassination attempt on Arthur after he pulled the sword from the stone. Pellinore had not just wanted to unite the Britons, he had wanted the glory of being their king. When that had failed, Guyon imagined he would have given in to other pleasures. Medina had told him that Pellinore spent much of his time hunting these days rather than tend to his kingdom. He would have been an easy target for Acrasia’s influence. But that did not mean he was beyond redemption.
Honestly, Guyon was surprised Una hadn’t done anything to kill Pellinore by now, given what he knew of her hatred for him. What was she even doing anyway?
Bringing his blade upward to catch Pellinore’s sword in his crossguard, Guyon twisted so that he brought both blades downward. But then, rather than try to bring his blade up again for an attack, he spun out of the way and took two steps back. That gave him just enough time to glance away from Pellinore and back at Una.
The woman stood transfixed, her eyes locked with those of Acrasia. The latter wore a smile of triumph, and even as Guyon watched, he saw Una lean forward slightly, as though drawn to Acrasia’s gaze. Whatever was happening, Acrasia and Una were engaged in a battle every bit as difficult as the one Guyon now fought.
But this was a battle of the mind.
Guyon had never felt fear as much as he did right that moment. If Una fell, there would be no hope for him. Even if he defeated Pellinore, it was doubtful that he’d be able to take on everyone here. They would all come for him, and there was no telling what kind of sorcery Acrasia could unleash. If it was enough to stop Una in her tracks, it would be more than enough for him.
There was still one hope.
Even as Pellinore came for a sweeping attack, Guyon wrapped a gauntleted hand around the amulet around his neck. Without it he would be fully exposed to the magic that kept everyone in Acrasia’s thrall. But with it, Una might have a fighting chance.
“Una!” he yelled, lifting the amulet off his neck.
She blinked, her locked gaze with Acrasia momentarily disrupted. She looked at him, confused, as though unsure who he was.
“Take this!” and with that he threw the artifact into the air, right at Una.
It arched in the air, speeding towards Una. She reached out a hand to grasp it. Instantly Guyon felt a wave of pleasure pass through him, like he was enjoying the most beautiful day with the most enjoyable company. Everything in the room suddenly gained a luster that hadn’t been there before. This had to be the influence of Acrasia’s magic. It was...it was so strong. He had the intense desire to go to her, to do what she willed. As the amulet flew through the air, a random thought that he should go to it and keep it from getting to Una sprang into his mind, forced there by magic. Yes, he had to...
But then a body lurched forward, several bodies. Every person in the vicinity who had done nothing but stand idle while Guyon and Pellinore fought, had suddenly sprung to life and thrown themselves into the path of the amulet. It hit the nearest of them and fell to the floor with a clang.
“Now we can’t have that, can we,” said Acrasia in a sensuous voice. “Pellinore?”
Pellinore took several steps forward, bringing his sword to bear. But this time he was not attacking Guyon. This time his target was the amulet itself.
“No!” Guyon lunged, trying to intercept the sword in time. But Pellinore aimed a kick backwards that hit Guyon in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, even as Pellinore brought the sword down with both hands.
The amulet shattered as it met the force of Pellinore’s blade. Fragments glittered as they flew through the room, and Guyon raised his arm to avoid any pieces aimed at his face.
Guyon stared at the mess on the floor. Pellinore straightened and turned to face Guyon as if in slow motion. Una’s exp
ression was stunned, and a chill swept through Guyon. All of the men and woman who had jumped to intercept the amulet returned to their places as if nothing had happened. But the damage was done.
What would they do now?
Pellinore advanced, readying his weapon to stab downward where Guyon lay on the floor. Guyon was still a little dazed from the man’s previous blow, and Acrasia’s magic still made it difficult to think. But he had enough good sense and stamina to roll backwards, out of the way of Pellinore’s attack.
The action saved his life as the heavy blade clanged against the floor where he had just been. Guyon quickly pushed himself to his feet.
The feeling of euphoria suddenly doubled, and he thought he might fall back to the ground. He gazed at Acrasia, watched as she smiled at him, such a beautiful smile. It was the kind of smile one might serve hard labor for seven years just to see once more. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be fighting. He should be at that woman’s side. His devotion to the Faerie Queen was nothing compared to the worship Acrasia deserved.
This was wrong. It was not who he was to worship a woman like this. His dedication was to the Faerie Queen and what she stood for. He was a master of his emotions. And he did not need a petty trinket to maintain that control.
He closed his eyes, and countless years of practice took over. He pushed the thoughts out of his head, replacing them with images of his parents. He reminded himself where giving in to such bodily passions had led. It had resulted in the ruin of his family, not only of his parents, but of his sister at the hands of Acrasia herself.
Taking a deep breath, he centered himself as he had done many times before. Then he opened his eyes, raised his sword, and prepared to meet Pellinore.
Acrasia frowned at Guyon as he began fighting Pellinore once again, but this time without the amulet. That still lay shattered on the floor, its light having gone out.
Yet Guyon still managed to resist Acrasia’s magic somehow, though Una had no idea how it was possible. She’d felt that magic herself, and even she had been unable to resist it. Yet Guyon was doing so, and well enough that he continued to hold his own as Pellinore came slashing and swinging his sword.
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