by Jane Godman
“I still think we would know the challenger if we saw him,” Vashti insisted.
“How? Ailie said he doesn’t look like a faerie,” Jethro reminded her. “That’s why Tanzi thought it could be Aydan.”
“What could be me?” Aydan came up behind them, his footsteps muffled by the long grass.
Jethro glanced at Vashti and she nodded. It was time to discover the truth about Aydan. One way or another. “Tanzi thought you might be the challenger to the faerie crown,” Jethro explained. “Because you are a faerie who doesn’t look like a faerie.”
“Me?” Aydan started to laugh. “I’m flattered, but I’m not the man you’re looking for. I know my background and who my parents are. My father was half satyr. I can prove it, although I’m not about to show you.” He blushed as he spoke. Since satyrs were known for their enormous, horselike penis, it seemed safe to say they could rule Aydan out.
Jethro sighed. “I made some furtive inquiries during the banquet. How about you?” Vashti and Aydan nodded. “Nothing. Either no one knew what I was talking about or they are all sworn to secrecy.”
“The only thing I did discover was when I asked about prisoners,” Vashti said. “It occurred to me the challenger might be imprisoned in the castle.”
“Good thinking. Did you find anything out?”
“Only that there is no such thing as a prisoner here on Avalon. If you cross Morgan le Fay you don’t stay alive.”
“Good morning.” They turned at the sound of Lisbet’s cheery greeting. “Did you all have the same idea as me?” When they regarded her blankly, she pointed to the summit of the hill. “King Arthur’s tomb is at the top.”
With one accord, they followed as Lisbet started to climb. The hill was almost conical, ringed around its base with tall pine trees. They accomplished the climb in silence, aware of the solemnity of the occasion. Could this be the place of so much speculation? The legendary resting place of King Arthur? The morning was bright but cold, and Vashti’s breath plumed in front of her as she walked in silence, her long skirts swishing around her ankles. At the top, the whole island of Avalon was spread below them in a tapestry of green and gold.
An eerie quiet hung over the hilltop as though the creatures who frequented the surrounding hills and fields had reached a consensus to avoid this one. The summit was flat and, in the center, there was a marble tomb guarded at each corner by a dragon carved in stone. Aydan placed his hand on the head of one of the stone beasts and a deep rumbling sound came from within the ground itself. He withdrew his hand in surprise and the sound ceased.
“What do you think would happen if I tried to touch the casket itself?” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“I don’t recommend you find out,” Vashti replied.
Jethro and Lisbet were both curiously quiet. Jethro’s eyes were fixed on the tomb. Lisbet’s gaze was fastened hungrily on Jethro’s face. To Vashti it seemed the other woman was trying to drink in his every flicker of emotion as he viewed this place. She had become used to Lisbet’s near obsession with Jethro, but the gloating expression on her face as she watched him was unsettling. Vashti turned away from the raw emotion on Lisbet’s face and focused her attention on the tomb.
“To think King Arthur lies here.” Aydan’s voice was hushed with awe. “Waiting for the time when the world needs him once more.”
“No, that isn’t true.” Vashti spoke automatically, unaware of what she was going to say until the words had left her lips.
“What do you mean?” Aydan looked at her in surprise.
Vashti shook herself, but the feeling persisted. She knew she was right. Her fae intuition was stronger than ever here. “King Arthur’s body was placed here, that much of the legend is true, but his spirit is long gone from this place.” She pointed to the casket. “All that lies within that tomb are the mortal remains of the man he once was.”
“So is he a ghost? Does he walk the mortal realm?” Aydan clasped his hands to his head as though trying to contain the questions that were forming there. “Or does he reside in Otherworld? If that was the case, surely he would have made himself known to Cal, the man who was his friend and mentor in life?”
Vashti didn’t answer. Her concentration was all on Jethro. He was a necromancer. If she could sense so much from King Arthur’s resting place, how much stronger must it be for him? Her answer was clear in his physical reaction. His face was pale, his eyes wide and his limbs trembling. His dark gaze seemed fixed on a point just beyond the casket. Vashti moved toward him but before she could reach him he fell to his knees. She knelt beside him, throwing her arms around him. Gratefully, he returned her embrace, his whole body juddering violently.
“What is it? Tell me.”
He shook his head. His teeth were chattering so hard he could barely speak. “I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt a connection so strong before. Yet you’re right. There is no soul left here.” Gradually the tremors running through him stilled. “How can I relate to something that doesn’t exist?”
Lisbet, in that strange way she had, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. A tiny smile played around her lips as she looked at the tomb. After casting a wary glance in her direction, Aydan came closer to Jethro and Vashti. “Could your extreme reaction have been caused by the emotion of who he was? Let’s face it, this is no ordinary grave. He was no ordinary man.”
Shakily, Jethro rose. “I suppose that’s one explanation.” He looked out across the landscape. Beyond the rolling fields of Avalon, the seas of Otherworld were visible. “If his spirit is gone from Avalon, it raises an important question.”
Aydan spoke the thought that was in all their minds. “Where is Arthur now?”
They all fell silent as they contemplated the words.
“We may never find out.” Vashti decided someone needed to be the practical one. “And that is not our quest.”
Jethro laughed. “You’re right. We have a challenger to find before we can go in search of the ancient king of the Britons.” Linking his arm through Vashti’s, he called over his shoulder to Lisbet. “Shall we go?”
Her face had a dreamy, faraway quality, and she didn’t look away from the tomb when she finally spoke. “I’ll stay here a while longer.”
“I’ll keep you company,” Aydan offered.
“No.” A flicker of impatience penetrated her reverie. “I want to be alone here.”
Jethro’s face softened with a touch of sympathy for the younger man. “Only those truly fascinated with the Arthurian legends would get it,” he explained. “Let’s leave her to her obsession.”
* * *
“The proposal I have been told to make is a simple one. You are to remain here. In exchange for your cooperation, your companions will be permitted to leave Avalon.” Iago’s wolfish smile gleamed. “Unharmed.”
Jethro regarded him thoughtfully across the wide, oak desk. Iago had summoned him to this meeting and insisted they speak alone. “Why am I to stay here?”
“That information has not been shared with me.”
“Can you find out?” Jethro felt his temper begin to boil.
“I can ask, but it is not always wise to question the ways of Morgan le Fay.”
Jethro stood in an explosive movement. “If it was your fucking future we were talking about, you might have a few questions.”
Iago inclined his head. “I will see what I can do.”
Jethro’s mind was racing. Should he agree to this bizarre offer? It meant Vashti would be safe—and Aydan and Lisbet, of course—then he could make his own escape without having to worry about them. But what did Morgan want with him? It seemed the challenger wasn’t on Avalon. Could he string this out long enough to make certain of that and also deal with Iago?
“How long would I be expected to stay here?”
“For
ever.” Iago’s smile deepened. “You, my friend, are the chosen consort of Morgan le Fay.”
Jethro muttered a curse. “Consort? You mean her partner?”
“Partner. Lover. Husband. These are just words. The outcome is the same.”
Of the dozens of thoughts whirling around in Jethro’s mind, one insistently forced its way to the top and onto his lips. “How can Morgan make such a proposition to me? We have never met.” He hated the slight croak to his voice. It made him sound fearful instead of plain incredulous. “Don’t tell me. It is wise not to question?”
Iago grinned in genuine amusement. “You learn fast.”
“You’re willing to let Vashti go as part of this deal? I thought you had other plans for her.”
Iago’s lips thinned so much they almost disappeared. “I did. Let’s just say, I have been informed my desires are unimportant in this matter. Morgan wants you. She feels Vashti would be an unnecessary complication if she remained on Avalon.”
So Morgan—a woman he’d never met—knew of his relationship with Vashti? Knew enough of it to be jealous. How? The thought of Morgan le Fay watching him without his knowledge made his flesh crawl. You think I’m going to stick around and be your consort...your lapdog? Think again.
“I need time to consider this.”
Iago inclined his head. “I cannot give you long. Shall we say you will give me your reply tomorrow?”
“If I say no?”
“Former hostilities will resume.” The wolfish smile dawned.
Former hostilities will resume. It was tempting to give Iago his answer there and then. Bring it on.
When he left Iago, Jethro went in search of Vashti. He found her on the castle’s high battlements, gazing out across the landscape. She looked up at his face in astonishment as he drew her into his arms and held her without speaking. As always, her presence soothed and strengthened him.
“What is it?”
Briefly he outlined his conversation with Iago. “You are to leave and I am to stay. Forever. As Morgan’s consort.”
Her smooth brow furrowed. “This is madness.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “The sort of madness that exists only on Avalon. We have to leave this place before we succumb to it, as well.”
Vashti leaned back in his arms. “Jethro, can she see us all the time? Is Morgan le Fay watching us right now, listening in on our conversation?”
“Can she have those sorts of powers? Surely she operates through Iago?”
“Think about it. Haven’t you noticed how people here look over their shoulder when they talk about her? How else has she seen enough of you to know she wants you at her side for all time? How does she know enough about us to decide she needs to get rid of me?”
“It doesn’t make sense. If she’s been observing me, she must know I’m not the sort of person who’s going to bow down and obey her commands. Why would she want me, after all these centuries of being on her own?”
“I don’t think it will do us any good to try to get inside the mind of Morgan le Fay.”
He drew Vashti closer. “Well, if she is watching us right now, she can fucking watch this.” He lowered his head, searing her lips with a kiss.
Vashti responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and fitting her body tightly to his.
When they moved apart, Jethro stood against the battlement wall, looking onto the green field below. “In Camelot, that was where the jousts were held.” He could almost see the colors and hear the shouts as the knights lined up for the tournament.
“How do you know these things?” Vashti came to stand at his side.
“I wish I knew. It’s the oddest feeling. Like a distant memory that grows stronger all the time.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps I’m becoming infected with the madness of Avalon.”
“Rina!” Vashti’s eyes sparkled suddenly. “Although she was scared, she definitely knew something. Maybe she can tell me how Morgan gets to know everything without physically being here.”
“Shall I come with you?”
She shook her head. “You caused the strangest reaction when she saw you, remember? Like you were a movie star she’d had a crush on from way back.”
Jethro pulled a wry face. “Good luck getting any sense out of her. I think she might be mad.”
“You probably would have fit right in at Camelot,” Vashti told him sternly. “Political correctness isn’t your strong point.”
“If I’d been born in medieval times I’d know that young ladies wouldn’t lift their skirts up to their knees or run like an Olympic sprinter out of the starting block,” he called after her as she set off. “And they certainly wouldn’t make those sorts of rude gestures at their gentleman friends.”
Chapter 17
As she searched for Rina, Vashti also tried to contact her sister. She felt an overwhelming need to hear her sister’s voice.
Tanzi, can you hear me? No matter how hard she tried, there was no response to her psychic cries for help.
After searching the castle for almost an hour, Vashti found Rina near the kitchens. Although the little sidhe protested she was busy, she eventually allowed herself to be dragged off to Vashti’s room.
“Can anyone overhear our conversation?” Vashti asked as she closed the door behind them.
Rina appeared genuinely confused. “I don’t think so.”
“Rina, how does Morgan le Fay know so much about what goes on here when she is away?”
“She is a powerful sorceress.” Rina sounded like a child reciting lines from a poem she had learned by heart.
“Does she have some kind of magical closed-circuit television?”
Rina was starting to look a little scared. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Can Morgan watch anyone on Avalon, any time she wants?”
“No. She confides in me. She wishes she had that sort of power. Her magic is illusory and, of course, it can be extremely destructive. But, although she has a psychic link with Iago, she does not have a second sight of the sort that has been granted to the Spae.”
So much for the theory Morgan was here, maintaining an all-seeing, invisible presence. Vashti sat on the bed, patting the space next to her. Warily, Rina joined her. “I need to confide in you about why we are here on Avalon, because you may be able to help me.”
“I don’t think...”
“Rina, please hear me out. Other than the friends I came here with, you are the only person I can trust.” Rina gave a single, nervous nod. “Everyone here on Avalon believes we are here at the invitation of Morgan le Fay and, in a way, that is true. But we are also here in search of someone. You know the story of how my father came to the faerie throne?”
Rina swallowed hard. “I know your father has threatened death to any who speaks of it.”
“My father is in exile. And I want you to speak of it.”
Even with that permission, Rina’s voice was hesitant. “Your father was a sidhe general in King Ivo’s army. He had no claim to the throne, only great ambition and, it was said, a ruthlessness that knew no bounds. One night, the royal family was gathered together at the faerie palace for a celebration. Your father and his followers massacred them all and staged a coup in which Moncoya claimed the throne. His rule from then on has been bloody and absolute. No one has dared to oppose him.”
“There is one other story about the night of the massacre. That a child—a royal baby—escaped.”
Rina’s hands twisted in the folds of her gown. “I have heard that story.”
“That child will be a man now, of course. Soon, each Otherworld dynasty will be offered the chance to choose their own leader in a democratic election. There is a strong chance that, even though he has been in exile after the battle to depose him, the fae will cho
ose Moncoya. That is because there is no real opposition for them to choose. If we can find King Ivo’s heir, the faeries will have an alternative to the harshness of my father’s regime. That is why we are here on Avalon. We have come in search of that child.”
“He is not here.” Rina spoke quickly. Too quickly.
This was where the old Vashti and the new Vashti differed. The old Vashti would have grasped Rina by her shoulders and shaken her, dragging the truth from her by force. The new Vashti, the one who had discovered her fae intuition, took a breath. Sometimes she wished the new Vashti would go to hell, but maybe—just maybe—she had her uses. Even though her heart was pounding wildly, Vashti kept her voice even and gentle. “How do you know that?”
Rina raised a shaking hand to her lips. Any color she might have had drained from her face, leaving it ashen. Realizing she had said too much, she shook her head. “I can’t...”
Vashti moved closer to her. “Rina, do you know something more about that child? If you do, I’m begging you to tell me.” She reached for Rina’s hand and was encouraged when the other woman didn’t pull away. “No one will ever know it was you who told me.”
Slowly, Rina nodded. “It has been my burden ever since that night.”
Vashti resisted the inclination to gasp dramatically. “You were there?”
Rina’s eyes filled with tears. “I was his nurse. I smuggled him out of the castle minutes before the killing began.”
* * *
Aydan’s jaw dropped in a comical expression when Jethro told him of Morgan’s proposition. “She actually said she wanted you to stay here and be her...” He glanced over his shoulder and Jethro wanted to yell at him not to do that. Don’t fall for it. She can’t hear you. “Her lover?”
“The message came via Iago but, yes, that was it exactly. If you can believe it. I’m not sure I can.”
Lisbet was standing between them. Her dark, unfathomable eyes raked Jethro’s face. “And will you stay?”
Rage boiled up instantly inside him and overflowed like molten lava. How the hell could she ask him something like that? The longer he spent in her company, the greater his unease around Lisbet grew. Although he knew his anger was directed at Morgan, Jethro’s reply came out more harshly than he’d intended it to. “Are you out of your fucking mind? What do you take me for? You seriously think I’d consider staying here, living in the past so some demented old witch can keep me as her toy boy? In the next twenty-four hours I intend to choke the life out of that trickster bastard Iago before I leave this hellhole behind me forever.”
