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Heirs of Avalon: The passage

Page 6

by Béatrice Mary


  Stifling summer heat replaced the spring rains. I’d been spending my free time with Melora for over a year now, but autumn and my departure for Cambridge were fast approaching. I knew we’d be separated for many long years, and this bothered me. I resented its necessity, but I was almost eighteen, and I had more important things to do than spend my time playing with a little girl!

  One day, even hotter than the rest, Melora and I decided to go swimming, so we headed to the Bridge of Secrets, one of many mysterious spots in Broceliande.

  Viviane had explained that it was here that Lancelot had vowed his love to Guinevere, Arthur’s wife, a vow that had stripped him of his honor as a knight. Arthur had never forgiven him, and his treason had brought about the end of the knights of the Round Table. Galahad didn’t like talking about his father Lancelot, and I suspected that this episode caused him a lot of pain.

  Melora and I walked along, and she also seemed lost in her thoughts.

  Wanting to break the silence, I asked her, “What school are you going to in the fall?”

  “My mother wants to send me to a public school in Paris, Lycée Henri IV,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “You don’t seem very enthusiastic.”

  “Of course not! I want to stay in Rennes. I don’t want to go to Paris, but you know your grandma, being my godmother, said it’s the best school. She has all these grand designs for my education, and Mom listens to everything she says.”

  She sounded irritated, but I was intrigued – Viviane never did anything without a reason.

  “Don’t complain!” I said. “I have to go to England, and that’s even farther!”

  “Oh, well…” she sniffed. “When you’re a rich castle-owner, you have to go to a school worthy of your rank, and you won’t find one like that in France. The French are rather allergic to nobility and royalty.”

  I rolled my eyes, exasperated. I didn’t like it when she pointed out our social differences.

  We reached the river, and undressed quickly before diving into the cool water. I had kept my undershorts on, of course, and she wore her T-shirt and underwear, like we had done many times before. I sighed with pleasure, floating with my arms and legs akimbo, eyes closed. But something grabbed my ankle and pulled me under. I struggled, breathing in some water with air as I came back up. Panicking, I was about to cast a spell to defend myself when a burst of laughter stopped me.

  Furious, I looked at my assailant, who was no other than Melora, so I splashed her in the face and an aquatic battle ensued, ending with hysterical laughter and cries.

  Melora fled, taking refuge on the riverbank. She looked at me, still laughing, but stopped abruptly and blushed, troubled by my regard. Her wet T-shirt was sticking to her skin, showing her growing breasts and the slight curves of her hips. Despite the water all around me, I felt my mouth get dry and my breathing become rapid and jerky. I’d just realized she was no longer a little girl; she was fourteen now, her figure had become much more feminine and judging from my body’s reaction, I wasn’t at all indifferent to it.

  When did that happen?

  I hadn’t seen it coming. Angry with myself, I turned my head and swam for a while to clear my head. I was embarrassed to have been caught looking at her so obviously. When I got out of the water, she was dressed, and I immediately pulled on my pants.

  “Don’t ever do something like that again,” I said, irritated. “I could have hurt you!”

  “But you didn’t do anything to me,” she retorted in a provoking tone.

  Her ambiguous response troubled me, and a hint of anger blended with some other emotion I couldn’t define. That annoyed me even more.

  “I have to go home,” I mumbled, scowling a little.

  “What time are you coming to get me tomorrow?” she asked, undeterred.

  Afraid to hurt her feelings, I did not answer.

  Back home, Viviane was waiting for me, a glass of wine in her hand, contemplating the luxuriant garden through one of the giant living room windows. She seemed lost in deep thoughts, and I must have jostled her out of them when I entered, for she lifted an eyebrow and looked at me curiously.

  “What is it, Gabriel? You seem cross.”

  I shook my head. “It’s nothing important.”

  She took a breath, as if about to tell me something, but then hesitated and was silent a moment before speaking.

  “You have to get ready to go in a week,” she said, sounding anxious. “You’ll be all alone over there, without protection, but Galahad will never be far off.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said with a reassuring smile. “I’m not a kid anymore, and thanks to you, I know how to defend myself.”

  “Be careful about using your powers, though. You have to be –”

  “Discreet,” I interrupted, slightly exasperated. “I know all that, Viviane!”

  She held out a pen to me. “Here, this is a ‘guddio.’ I had it made for you.”

  I waited for her to explain, because I was at a loss as to what it was.

  “A guddio is an object that hides another object. When you feel in danger, and you take it in your hand, it will change into a sword – your sword.”

  Intrigued, I turned it around and examined it from all sides, then slipped it into my pocket. I thanked her, leaning down to kiss her cheek, which was about as high as my chin, I was so much taller now… This made her smile, one of those affectionate smiles so rare with her.

  “It’ll be much easier to hide in that shape,” she added wryly.

  When I reached the port of Calais I felt dazed by it its effervescence. the salty smell of the Atlantic, but also freshly caught fish, filled my nostrils.

  The imminent return to school explained the exceptional animation on the quai, where crowds of people were waiting for the ferries crossing to Dover and fishermen returning from the sea were noisily unloading the morning’s catch.

  I took a few steps to stretch my legs. Despite the comfort of the Rolls-Royce, the road trip had been long and we had left very early that morning. Charles, impeccably-dressed as usual, closed the car door behind me and told me to wait there with Galahad while he went to take care of our boarding formalities. I strolled along the docks, the cries of gulls and children filled my ears.

  My protector observed me from a distance. Viviane, still fearing further attacks by Mordred’s followers, had insisted that Galahad accompany me. I protested against it, of course. Ever since the death of my parents, she had kept watch over me like I was milk on the fire, and it was even worse since the kobolds’ attack.

  We were traveling to Cambridge, where I would have to study and earn my science degree. I hadn’t had any trouble getting admitted. I would soon be eighteen, I’d already earned my high school degree, with honors, and the University’s requisite mathematics exams had been easy to pass.

  I thought of Melora, who must have been in Paris by then.

  We hadn’t seen each other once since our swim together. I’d avoided her for the rest of August, even during her visits to see Viviane. I was too upset by the thoughts I’d had about her – they were unacceptable, as she was far too young. I shook my head in vexation. I had to concentrate on my studies and on the task that had been laid on me, but her image, the graceful figure and magnificent gray eyes, was incessantly before me.

  Charles returned a few minutes later, and we boarded one of the ferries.

  “The crossing would take barely an hour,” he said.

  He left me again, this time to park the car on the boat. Galahad also left, saying he would be back in two minutes.

  I headed to the club lounge on the upper deck for a coffee and croissant. Carpeted in beige and white, its giant bay windows looked out on the bridge. Comfortable seats filled it, and huge bouquets of flowers decorated the coffee tables of lacquered wood. I went to the bar, ordered my coffee and then sat down near one of the wide entrances, where I started reading a newspaper while waiting for Galahad and Charles to come back.

&n
bsp; The sensation of someone staring at me made me scan the lounge. Sure enough, a young blonde woman with green eyes was looking at me. We must have been around the same age, but she seemed older because of her provocative clothing – tight black leather pants, a belted wool jacket that hid nothing of her figure and high-heeled boots. She gave me a big smile. Her eyes remained cold, however, and that set my internal alarms ringing. She got up and headed toward me with a confident step, undulating her hips in an exaggerated way as she approached.

  I peered around for my companions, but no familiar faces were to be seen.

  “May I sit down?” she asked in English with a strong French accent.

  “Certainly. To whom have I the honor?”

  She sat down across from me and replied, “My name’s Alwena Ygerne.”

  “Your name doesn’t sound very English,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “My mother has Briton ancestors,” she said evasively, with an even stronger French accent.

  “Oh… And where are you going?” I asked, suspicious.

  Remaining vague, she retorted, “Where my family business leads me.”

  Her cold smile became fixed as she looked beyond me. I turned around and saw Galahad, who was glaring at her threateningly. She pursed her lips as she got up, then she declared shortly, “I’m going to have to leave you. Maybe I’ll see you later…”

  My bodyguard came up, and after exchanging glances with her, full of animosity on both sides, he took her seat.

  “Watch out, my boy. She’s a magician.”

  “Yes, I felt it. But don’t worry, I’m capable of defending myself now, thanks to you!” I said with a wink.

  “My training won’t suffice against her,” he groaned. I laughed and said, “Luckily I’ve had other professors as well!”

  Charles came, sat with us and we changed the subject. We sat together about a quarter of an hour, then I told them I wanted to get some air. Galahad was not at all pleased, afraid I would come up against Alwena again, but I assured him I’d be gone only a few minutes and that I’d be right in front of them.

  Once on deck, I walked up and down the bridge, breathing in the sea air, scrutinizing the horizon and watching the gulls dive for fish.

  A noise on my left attracted my attention. A mackerel about a foot long was banging frenetically against the deck. I searched for the gull responsible for its plight, but seeing nothing. I decided to end its agony and throw it back in the water. Hardly had I stretched out my hand when the fish changed into Alwena!

  She was still covered with scales, and her green eyes had nothing friendly about them as she punched me hard in the jaw.

  Thrown back, I lost my balance, and had to grab the railing to avoid a fall. No longer caught by surprise, I replied with a series of blows and wrestling holds that she more or less parried. I leaned against the barrier to face her again and saw her launch herself at me ferociously. I had no time to dodge, and we both fell over the side. As soon as we touched the freezing water, she turned into a deadly shark, and began circling me like a predator circles its prey. Then she came straight at me.

  I had to react instantaneously or I’d end up torn to shreds, so I transformed into a large dolphin. To avoid her attack, I immediately dove and then changed course so she wouldn’t have time to reposition herself for another attack. Swimming fast now, I headed straight up at her, then hit the soft part of her underbelly with my rock-hard rostrum. I took advantage of her subsequent disorientation to do this again and again, until I saw blood mingling with the salt water. She abandoned the fight and fled away into the blue.

  I wanted to get back to Galahad, who must have been worried, so I didn’t give chase.

  Instead, I resurfaced, changing into a seagull at the same time. I flapped up into the air, and then landed on the bridge, where I rapidly changed back into my real appearance.

  A boy about five was staring at me open-mouthed, pulling on his mother’s sleeve as she was talking with his father. Luckily, their heads were turned the other direction.

  “Mom… The bird changed into that man!”

  His mother looked me up and down while I gazed at them innocently, as if I didn’t understand.

  “Oh, honey, you’re embarrassing the man with your stories,” she reprimanded. The boy’s father spoke to me. “Sorry, he has an incredible imagination.” Then looking at his wife, “I told you not to let him watch so much TV.”

  They took the little boy by the hand and walked off. I noticed Galahad on the other side of the deckhouse, peering all around anxiously, so I waved my hand at him, crying, “I’m here!”

  “My God!” he exclaimed, running over to me. “What happened?”

  “You were right. Alwena was not very nice to me.”

  I smiled at him to reassure him, but he was not happy.

  “We’ll have to double our vigilance from now on. Apparently, they know you’ve left the castle.”

  We went looking for Charles, who we found standing next to the car. We finished the crossing without any more incidents, and disembarked in England.

  “How could you have botched it up?” Adenora screamed, looking furiously at her daughter Alwena. “Morgana is going to be extremely vexed when she hears it.”

  She paced nervously back and forth across the stone-tiled salon in her manor. Alwena sat grimacing with pain and holding her stomach.

  “You didn’t tell me he was that challenging,” she complained. “It was supposed to be easy…”

  “Drink this, and lie down over there,” her mother replied, handing her a glass ampoule and waving at a chaise longue upholstered in fuchsia silk brocade.

  “I thought it would be easy!” Adenora insisted. “Up until now, Viviane and Merlin’s children weren’t very troublesome, and I’ve killed more than one myself. The boy’s mother – she could barely control the winds! Ah, I should have finished him off in the car when I had the chance!”

  She was nearly in a rage now, and her hands were clenched into fists. “I thought he was dead when I left him in that wreckage!”

  To calm her anger, she started breathing in and out slowly, deeply. Then, standing over her daughter, she placed her hands above her abdomen to relieve the pain. A green halo appeared around her palm. Alwena was suffering, but trying not show it.

  An idea flashed on her, and she addressed her mother: “Up until now, all their descendants have been girls. According to the curse, it couldn’t be otherwise, and apparently, the women inherited only a few of Viviane’s gifts. None of them ever got as powerful as she is. So don’t you think Gabriel’s inherited his grandfather’s powers? What if he really does have Merlin’s powers? Or even both Viviane’s and Merlin’s powers?”

  Adenora scowled. “Then we will have a worthy adversary.”

  She left Alwena and went into the Hall of Mirrors to announce the bad news to her cousin. The room was lit with enormous silver chandeliers and appliques, their candle flames reflected in hundreds of mirrors hung on the walls or set up around the room. She called to Morgana, feeling slightly relieved that she was stuck on the other side of the passage.

  As she had predicted, Morgana was furious, and Adenora shivered as her green eyes glared at her.

  “Why didn’t you take care of it yourself?” Morgana demanded.

  “My daughter is just as devoted to you as I am, Morgana, and she was seriously wounded.”

  “I don’t care about your girl’s health,” interrupted the fairy. “I want Gabriel’s head! We can’t risk having him reopen the passage linking us – until we find out where Arthur’s descendant is, the passage must remain closed. I don’t want the Avalonians hoping for his return, or for Mordred to face a rebellion.”

  “Yes,” agreed Adenora, her eyes lowered in submission. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Morgana gave her cousin a haughty look, then disappeared.

  As soon as we reached Dover, we continued our journey, now on the roads of England. Its lovely countryside rolled by, great
stretches of greenery dotted with pretty red-brick houses.

  Charles and Galahad planned to stop in London to have lunch, and when we arrived, I was seduced by this city so full of animation and overflowing positive energy. Everything charmed me: gardens tucked between Victorian homes, flower-filled mews along tiny paved roads, imperial-red buses moving in concert with black taxis, ancient stables converted into cozy little homes.

  In the distance, we caught glimpses of the business center, which contrasted with the rest of the city by its modernity. Tall glass towers next to historical monuments offered a fascinating spectacle.

  When we entered Regent Street, with its high-end shops and prestigious hotels, I asked where we were.

  “In the West End,” Galahad said. “We’re going to visit one of my friends, who’d like us to visit.”

  His friend Bertie was a very amiable person and…an Avalonian! After effusive greetings, we enjoyed a delicious lunch he’d prepared for us.

  “Why did you leave Avalon?” I asked him rather abruptly after we finished.

  “I didn’t leave it, per se,” said the short, round-cheeked man. “I had come to London to buy some spices and a few items we can’t get in Avalon.” He puffed up with pride, which made his chubby belly stick out even more. “I was in charge of supplies for the king’s kitchens. When the king died, I left the castle. I didn’t want to serve Mordred, so I came here. When the gates closed on me, this became my home!”

  Galahad cut in then, “Well, your company is always a delight, Bertie. But we’ve got to get going.”

  I agreed, as I was eager to get to Cambridge. It had been six years since I’d had any school friends, or really any friends at all, apart from Melora, so I was looking forward to being among kids my own age. Not that I was unhappy staying with Galahad or with my grandmother and the other fairies, but I missed the carefree spirit I’d had when I was ten years old.

  We said our goodbyes to the Avalonian and set out again. The trip took two long hours, but finally we pulled up in front of St John’s College, where Charles dropped us off. As I gazed up at this incredible edifice straight out of the Middle Ages, I felt chastened by its beauty and grandeur. The main entrance, called the Great Gate, was at the foot of an imposing crenellated tower. Its heavy wooden door was surmounted by a hammered-gold coat of arms, which featured a red rose and a portcullis flanked by two curious creatures, each with the body of an antelope, an elephant’s tail and a goat’s head with long horns. They were looking up toward St John the Evangelist, who held a poisoned chalice in both hands.

 

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