Shades of Avalon

by Carol Oates

  Merlin glared, his enlarged pupils dancing over my shocked face. I’d been brought up to respect my elders. As much as I wanted to stamp the old coot out of existence, Carmel’s disapproving expression hovered in the back of my mind. Nurture kept nature in check. Still, fury swelled, a perfect storm of unhelpful emotion.

  “Your confusion betrays your every decision, Benjamin Pryor, blood of Danu. It cripples you, makes you feeble. You and your family.” He snarled the words as though they tasted bitter on his tongue. “You have forgotten the old ways of our people.”

  I stepped back, my nails biting into the palms of my hands. My scalp prickled, and hair stood on end down the length of my arm. “Was any of it real?” The sharp sting of loss bit into my chest.

  Merlin’s lips pulled into a tight smile. He blinked, and for one horrifying instant I saw him disappearing again, morphing into a shell of a man before I gained closure. I battled the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake answers from him. I wasn’t confident I could stop. He shrugged and walked away from me, spinning the globe as he passed.

  “All of it.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Time is a matter of perception, the future, the past, possibility…other realities, and we exist in almost all of them. Sometimes the same, sometimes different. The only way for most to make sense of it is to travel one path from start to finish with no knowledge of the others.” His hands sliced through the air in front of him, illustrating the beginning of life and the end—death.

  Merlin shrugged noncommittally.

  “But it wasn’t me,” I argued, scratching the base of my skull and wishing I had taken philosophy so I could unravel this lunacy. “I mean, it was me, but it wasn’t. I was human and for me to exist as I am, I would have to be a Guardian.”

  His eyes rolled upward, condescending. “And yet you were not. Who can know why…dormant blood never awakened, destiny unfulfilled, or perhaps it was a dream within a dream. What does it matter?”

  I slammed my fist into the palm of my other hand, pacing the room. “It matters because that’s my family, my children.”

  Merlin laughed. “But you are a boy. You have no children. They don’t exist on the path you walk.”

  “Then why bother showing me?”

  “You wonder about that possibility, and the life you could have had. Now you do not have to wonder. You know there are other possibilities.”

  I slumped on the couch and dropped my head into my hands when my vision blurred. Drowsy with emotion, I was scared to death I would never get a handle on the existence of magic in my life. It all seemed so simple when I discovered my mother was a Guardian, so exciting. I didn’t know much about Celtic legends, but I had imagined myself a god on Mount Olympus from the movies I watched as a kid. Something far removed from humans but able to walk among them at my choosing. I groaned. “I don’t understand.”

  I shook my head because in a bizarre way, I could see how Merlin might truly believe he had given me a gift. Although this was one gift I wished came with a receipt.

  “Do you know what will happen to us?” I asked seriously, looking up at him to gage his reaction.

  “No,” he answered within a split second. No consideration of the question at all. “Only what could happen, and that I can’t share. We have all been thrown off course. We are a spinning coin, and I cannot say who will end up on top.” Merlin’s eyes glazed. He closed them languidly and swayed to unheard music. “We must wait and see.”

  I still had many questions, perhaps more than when I entered the room. I wanted to trust the people around me, but obviously it was easier to trust some more than others. Caleb’s family wanted him back. John would do anything for Triona, and Emma would do anything for him. I would trust Amanda with my life. Merlin and Guinevere had no allegiance to any of us. Guinevere had her own agenda, and I hadn’t quite worked it out yet. Who knew what went through Merlin’s head. I had a feeling he would look out for himself primarily.

  I cracked my knuckles and stood. “Just tell me one thing. No verbal flourish or linguistic gymnastics. Do you remember where the Stone is yet?”

  Merlin smiled knowingly and tented his fingers under his chin. His gaze drifted toward the window, and he stared into space for a moment or two. “The Stone is near, but it has not yet achieved full potency. When the time comes, the Philosopher’s Stone will be ready.” He inhaled, puffed out his chest and returned to the globe. When Merlin sat down and began to rock again, our conversation was over.

  “Not exactly an assurance, but I suppose it will have to do,” I muttered. Even if we exchanged the stone for Caleb, what then? We would still need to prevent Zeal from using the stone to create the Elixir of Life.

  Chapter 16

  Sétanta

  SAMUEL AND ANNICE were coming down the grand staircase, hand in hand, when I left the library. Two ostentatious wooden staircases, smooth, aged, and intricately carved, curled toward a central stairway to the second floor where a balcony wrapped around the entire space.

  Annice appeared smaller than I remembered her, as though she had begun to close in on herself. Samuel’s guarded expression gave no indication of his feelings, but Annice’s emotions were written all over her face. She had piled her pale caramel hair in a soft knot at the top of her head and wore jeans under a long cowl-neck sweater belted at the waist. A sense of dread and hopelessness clung to her. Samuel wore casual clothes too—a rumpled shirt turned up at the cuff and boot-cut jeans. The look suited him. He looked younger. I shifted awkwardly, knowing I had to face them but unsure what to say. I’d asked them to come here. I’d asked for Samuel’s help.

  He offered his hand when they reached me, and I shook it, conscious of keeping a firm grip. Just because I needed help didn’t mean I wanted to appear weak. As soon as Samuel released my hand, Annice stepped forward and pulled me into a motherly embrace. I hugged her back, applying only a little effort, more out of shock at her affection than in refusal. She sighed and held my face in her palms, studying me with a frown.

  “You haven’t slept, have you?”

  “A little,” I lied. I didn’t consider my time dreaming as rest. Even now, a shard of ice remained embedded in my chest.

  She shook her head, not convinced. “You need to sleep. Have you eaten?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but she broke in first.

  “I mean something that grows in the ground or on a tree. Not something processed in a factory and then deep fried.”

  I smirked, feeling my cheeks heat. “It’s been a while.”

  She let go of my face and retook Samuel’s hand. Her shoulders lifted, and I caught a glimpse of the familiar Annice, the woman who always wanted to make everything better for those around her.

  “I’m going to cook for us tonight,” she announced with a smile creeping across her lips.

  I was about to argue that she didn’t need to bother when Samuel captured my attention over her head. His eyes narrowed and his head shook almost imperceptibly. “She needs this,” he mouthed silently.

  “That would be great. I’m sure Amanda will be starving when she wakes.” I plastered a grin on my face for her benefit.

  “Why don’t you head to the kitchen and get started planning my duties,” Samuel suggested with a smile. “I’ll be along in just a moment, so you can put me to work.”

  “Okay,” Annice conceded just a little too willingly.

  Samuel kissed her on the cheek. His eyes closed as he relished the gentle caress of her hand on his neck. I looked away, feeling like an intruder on the private moment. I turned back to smile at Annice as she walked away.

  “Thank you,” Samuel said when she was out of earshot. “Looking after everyone here will take her mind off Caleb.” His voice cracked on his son’s name. I nodded. “You know, it’s strange because we prepared ourselves to lose him a couple of years ago. Caleb was willing to die for even a short time with your sister, and we couldn’t do a thing to stop him.”

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nbsp; “I always presumed you supported his decision to trade his life to keep Triona safe.”

  Samuel huffed out a breath and dragged his fingers through his hair in a way that reminded me of Caleb. “No. We tried everything to talk him out of it. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but we didn’t know Triona. In the end, we had to accept he wouldn’t change his mind. It was his choice.”

  “But you can’t accept this.”

  Samuel gave a small smile, but it was forced and tight, and it didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced in the direction Annice had gone, as though making sure she wasn’t listening. Then he took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Have you spoken to Merlin?”

  My eyebrows drew together, and I didn’t understand the need for secrecy.

  Samuel went on, “I love my son, Ben. I do—”

  “You don’t need to convince me,” I cut him off, whispering because it seemed appropriate.

  Samuel’s cheeks flushed, and his nostrils flared. This close, I saw the tendons in his neck strain. His tension added to my confusion.

  “I want you to know. We’d never expect anyone to sacrifice themselves for Caleb. You need to appreciate that?” His tone lifted at the end of the sentence indicating a question.

  I stepped away, pressing my back to the door of the library. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I nearly toppled backward when the door pulled inward but caught myself. I was so intent on listening to Samuel that I had totally missed Merlin approaching. Samuel’s cold eyes fixed on him.

  “Well don’t stand on ceremony. Tell him the rest,” Merlin goaded him.

  My eyes flashed to Samuel. “What’s the loon going on about now?”

  Samuel paused and inhaled a deep breath.

  “Oh, I’ll do it then,” Merlin said with a mad smile, revealing too many perfect white teeth. “The Philosopher’s Stone isn’t a thing. It’s a person.”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach and bile inched upward, burning my throat. “Who?”

  Even as I said the word, the memory of escaping the cave flashed through my mind in vivid color. This along with Merlin’s warnings made my hackles rise.

  Merlin closed his eyes and danced backward into the room. He did a strange jig across the rug that reminded me of leprechauns I’d seen in movies, except this leprechaun was too tall and dressed all in black. “My magnum opus. At last.”

  Cold prickles rushed over my scalp and down my spine. A shudder crashed through my body. Does he mean me?

  “It’s impossible,” I murmured.

  “What is true is never impossible,” Merlin laughed. He swiped his hand aside with a flick of his wrist, and the door slammed shut in my face.

  “Ben.”

  I closed my eyes and shut Samuel out, rejecting his concern. I thought back to the warning Merlin issued to Triona when we first got here. He told her the cost for getting Caleb back would be great sacrifice. I combined that with his assertion about the untapped power in my blood. It dawned on my sleep deprived and addled brain that I was the sacrifice.

  “Ben,” Samuel repeated, more insistent. His hand clasped my shoulder and then both my shoulders until I opened my eyes.

  “I have to choose between my sister and my wife?”

  Samuel shook his head. “No, Ben, you don’t. Merlin is half-insane. We’re making a big presumption he means you. Even if he did, no one would ever expect that of you.”

  “I expect that of me.”

  Samuel’s eyes narrowed, and the muscles in his cheek jumped when he swallowed.

  “The ugly truth is I wouldn’t hesitate if it were any of you.” Even as I said the words, I began to realize how true they were. “If I had to hand Merlin, or Emma, or even Annice over to get Caleb back, I would do it. I don’t know if Triona will survive losing him. So how can I stand here and say I won’t hand myself over to get him back.”

  Samuel’s hands fell limp to his side, but he didn’t move away. “How will she survive losing you? And what about Amanda?”

  My heart pounded in my ribs, and I pressed my palm to my chest in a vain attempt to quell the pressure. The hairs on my neck stood on end. This had to be a nightmare. I couldn’t leave Amanda.

  “I need to speak to Triona,” I said, unable to meet Samuel’s eyes. I didn’t want to see Caleb staring back at me, through them, judging me for being the weaker man.

  “We’ll see you at dinner,” Samuel responded. It wasn’t a question.

  I found Triona out on the sloped lawn leading to the lake, still sparring with John. Her single-minded determination to find Caleb and defeat Zeal never failed to astonish me. John shouldn’t have stood a chance against my sister in hand to hand combat. Yet he continually evaded Triona’s swipes and managed to land a hit on her more than once. It appeared John had spent a lot of time on this particular family tradition. He showed a natural talent, just like Emma’s for archery.

  The sky had turned dark blue with dots of white light speckled across it. The sun dipped over the horizon, leaving only a pale streak of light behind. The surrounding countryside reflected off the still lake as though the liquid was black glass. Another time the setting would have been idyllic, an old English country mansion set into a picturesque valley, the fabricated attempting to dominate nature and coming up short. Right now none of us were in the frame of mind to appreciate it. In the absence of rain clouds, we created our own. The atmosphere around us sucked the life out of the air, leaving it stale and lifeless.

  I wanted to talk to her. I needed to clear my head and decide what to do next. Either way, someone I loved would end up hurt. I didn’t know what Zeal would do with me, and I certainly didn’t understand this Philosopher’s Stone stuff.

  I sat down on the grass a distance away and took out my phone, hoping for a few answers. Everything I remembered from reading while growing up supported the idea of the Stone being an actual stone, not a person. However, my knowledge of alchemy was a little rusty and limited to fantasy films, books, and games.

  The first thing I came across was “magnum opus,” the words Merlin said while retreating into the library—from the Latin for “great work.” For a person as tremendously iconic as Merlin to consider something his great work, it had to be a damn huge achievement.

  According to the site I found, there were four phases in the creation of the stone—nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, and rubedo. It began with utter destruction, leading to the ultimate goal of transmutation on an atomic level. I wasn’t sure how any of it related to me.

  “He’s magnificent isn’t he?”

  Guinevere startled me. I seriously needed to get my head back into the game as soon as possible. I was no use to anyone this distracted, although, Guinevere was stealthy. The woman was a ghost, never making the least little sound on approach. I supposed it was a useful battle skill, but I found it more than a little disconcerting.

  “He’s strong…for a human.” I shrugged.

  “He’s strong for any being.”

  “I suppose.” If this was a power transfer, John would be formidable, considering the linage from which his powers stemmed.

  Triona and John continued to spar, seemingly oblivious to us on the crest of the hill.

  Guinevere sat on the grass beside me, and I looked down at her for the first time. She wasn’t wearing her leathers, and without her fighting gear she looked so much younger. Her face remained ageless, another of her defense skills. Guinevere had the ability to seamlessly blend anywhere and always look like she belonged. She could hide in a crowded room or walk down the street, and no one would ever be able to recall her face later. Today she wore her bronze hair braided in a long rope and tied with a piece of leather. Her tattered jeans were ripped across the right knee, revealing a sliver of golden skin and, together with the worn T-shirt, set her up to fit in with any group of laid back teens.

  I pulled my knees up and rested my elbows on them, lightly clasping the fingers of my right hand around my left wrist. T
riona made a running jump, lifting from the ground with a fierce expression of malice on her face. Her foot should have squarely made contact with John’s jaw, but he caught her ankle in mid-flight. He twisted sharply, turning away from her, and went down on one knee. In what would have been a truly brutal attack to anyone else, he bent her leg back and slammed her into the hard ground. Triona yelped, and her intense expression belied no fear. John left her panting on the ground and massaging her quickly healing injury as he stood over her.

  I frowned. There was no way Triona would sit out the fight when we eventually tracked down Zeal. She wanted to be in the midst of the destruction. Triona wouldn’t leave Caleb’s rescue to anyone else, and as queen, not even I could force her. On the other hand, if she was unable to defeat one human, admittedly a human souped-up on Guardian juice…

  “What are you researching?” Guinevere dipped her head to the phone in my hand.

  “Alchemy. I’m trying to get a handle on Merlin.”

  She chuckled lightly. “Then you’ll have succeeded where many have failed. Emrys’s mind is an ever changing labyrinth.”

  “What do you know about how the Stone is created?”

  Her brow crinkled, and she sighed. “I know Emrys spent his life attempting to create the Stone, and I know Zeal believes he achieved it.”

  “Do you believe it?” I asked.

  “Alchemy is a mongrel beast. It’s more than a science. When I knew Emrys, he spoke of a philosophy, of a base element making up everything in existence. Alchemists believed this. We’re not talking about creation—it’s manipulation. Emrys believed he could manipulate that element. Science tells us some of this is true. We are all made of stardust.”

  I dropped my phone on the grass and massaged my temples to ease the dull throbbing there.

  “I know that Emrys claims the Stone is a person,” she went on without glancing at me.

  “Did you know before today?”