The Phoenix Grail

by Helen Savore

  “But we will, Moralynn,” he assured her. “It may take time, but it will happen. It not that good enough?”

  Alexandrea halted and put a hand to her chest. “Time, you both have time. I don't.”

  It was strange to hear an echo of her concerns without the certainty that they were the same. Again, Moralynn grieved the destruction of the alloy. She could see Alexandrea was upset, but could only assume why, and her own feelings would color that. Perhaps she had moved on to this new course too quickly. Everything had happened so fast after Raebyn’s attack and Boderien’s death. She must speak more with the her, alone.

  Moralynn took her other hand and tugged. “Alexandrea, we will not let it take that long. It may not be this place, but we will find it. I have named you heir, do not doubt it.”

  Alexandrea’s eyes opened, and a broad smile crept over her face.

  Moralynn mimicked the grin. “I understand. It feels wasteful to walk around to no purpose.”

  Adhomai caught up to them and bowed to both. “My ladies Phoenix Sparked and heir, I must disagree. I enjoy stretching my legs at a leisurely pace.”

  “Such long legs to stretch.” Alexandrea shook her head and whispered, “You are both lucky there are no children here. What would they think of the sight of you?”

  “In this historic site?” Adhomai scoffed, giving her a crisp nod. “I think my armor works.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re too tall and pale. Moralynn at least looks human under her defensive foci.”

  Adhomai raised an eyebrow. “I shall keep that in mind.”

  Alexandrea shrugged and walked to the edge of the stage, circling the presumed front of the stands. She placed a hand on the stone wall.

  “It’s been years since I’ve been here,” she said. “I liked history even then.”

  “Fantasy, not history, Alexandrea,” Moralynn added. “Most of your written history is done by those who draw conclusions without fact.”

  Alexandrea continued to walk the circular track, letting her hand trail along the wall. “Moralynn, I’m afraid you are in the minority. While people make mistakes, they need to start somewhere, using what remains to deduce what once was.” She halted and palmed a section of wall. “The structures tell us something was here. Even if we misunderstand what.”

  Moralynn kicked the grass. “The structures remain, but the trappings do not. If something were here, someone would have taken it.”

  “Unless it was buried farther down.” Adhomai stepped towards her and put his toe into the divot she left in the grass.

  Alexandrea dashed to Adhomai and whispered, “Are you suggesting we dig up the countryside?”

  “Shapers such as Moralynn and I do not require eyes to see.” Adhomai pointed to the sparse young trees that dotted the edge of the property. “The trees are too young to talk, but the minerals here still have much to say.”

  That was possible. Moralynn wiggled her toes, working to get a sense outside her boots. The familiar sense of the damp ground, the grass, and the soil that held it to the earth, focused Moralynn. These were comforting feelings after running into so much modernity.

  “Stone can speak?” Alexandrea picked up a pebble from the ground and tossed it. “I’m only a rudimentary Earth Shaper, I had no idea.”

  “Mineral shaping,” Adhomai said, pulling the stone into his palm. “I meant it more figuratively, I thought you would appreciate the comparison.” He opened his palm and the pebble plunged into the ground.

  “We can see through the soil, rock, and stone. Although I am not sure how far down we need to look.” Adhomai took a step to the side and sunk to the ground. He unlaced his boots, placed them aside, and took off his gauntlets. His palms and soles naked, he went to his hands and knees, touching all four to the grass.

  Moralynn nodded at Alexandrea, but did not explain further. She sunk into a squat, but did not remove her boots or gauntlets. Instead she plunged a single palm into the ground. She took a moment to acclimate, pushing through the soil, looking for more structured objects and not the inevitable crush of tiny stone dotting everything. The stones lit her mineral vision, creating a cloud which took time to pierce.

  Adhomai’s voice interrupted her concentration. “How far down should we look? I see nothing of interest ten meters down.”

  Moralynn flipped open her eyes and noticed he sat back on his heels.

  “My radius encompassed the amphitheater, but not too far beyond,” he said. “We would have to walk farther about.” He looked to her, his lids drooping. “It would be simpler if you could give us a sense, Phoenix Sparked.”

  “I do not have one.” She pulled her hand out of the ground. “I do not know. Does that mean it is not here? Or have lost my sense of it? I never thought to try earlier. Perhaps it is not meant for me to grasp.”

  Alexandrea fell to her side, taking Moralynn’s hand and brushing soil off it. “Moralynn, don’t say such things. You are still Sparked, despite everything that has happened.”

  She hid her face, not wanting to disappoint Alexandrea.

  I should feel something. This was someplace I should remember.

  Moralynn swept her eyes, getting both Alexandrea and Adhomai out of her line of sight. She could not miss it if it were here, but she must have stood here long ago. A tendril of thought flashed within her sight. She had an impression of looking down upon fields and the channel beyond.

  Looking down she said, “The ground is too flat.”

  “Things change over time, Moralynn. This was farmland for a while. Modern conveniences can level land…”

  Moralynn’s head tilted, only half listening to Alexandrea. She stood and scanned the horizon until she found a tree-studded mound. She pointed. “Perhaps up there.”

  Alexandrea stopped her speech. Her lips formed a wide smile that pushed up her cheeks.

  “The Mynde House. They owned all this property, but bequeathed the baths and amphitheater to museum collections years ago. Except the castle ruins, they are still on the property, hidden from view.” She stood and offered a hand to Moralynn. “I didn’t tell you where the castle was, but you found it, Moralynn. You found it yourself. Maybe it is there. You are sensing something.”

  Moralynn frowned. “I wish I had, but I did not. It was only deduction.”

  Adhomai lifted himself. “That same deduction you were accusing human historians of using?”

  Moralynn refused to answer. She could not fathom how this related to her earlier comment. “The trees there may have something to say. From here, I cannot determine how young they are.” She walked towards the exit of the amphitheater closest to the mound.

  “Wait, you’re just going to walk there?”

  Moralynn looked to her apprentice. “Why not?”

  She pointed. “This is open to the public, but that is private property. It’s within a walled home. I remember hearing stories about it going up for sale years ago. ‘Home includes ancient ruins.’”

  Adhomai stepped between the women. “Alexandrea, if that is the site of Caerleon Castle, then do you not think Moralynn’s claim supersedes the current owner?”

  Her head dropped. “Will you be careful? Promise not to disturb too many things?”

  “You don’t want to come?”

  Alexandrea grumbled. “Of course I do, but I don’t want to draw attention. I’d be seen.” She sighed and buried her hands in the sleeves of her sweater. “I’ll wait here.”

  “If you insist.”

  Moralynn supposed the property was grand. The house she helped Alexandrea’s ancestors build was more to her taste, but this space also had a sense of scale. The pair walked through the modern entrance, seeing no people. A dark hound lifted its head, but did not react further as they made their way out to the rear. The outside path was wrong—a tamed field of short grass and manicured plant life. Moralynn extended her plant sense and heard them murmuring discomfort. Even in the fae realms, plants bound to shapes and patterns maintained a certain amount of gro
wth and sinuosity along the edges.

  Things became more interesting as they crossed into the wooded mound. This place alone, in the compound, was untouched. She breathed in deep, finding something familiar and joyous in the small forest. They stepped round ridges of exposed roots, following what once may have been a game trail. She pulled back one last branch as they entered the clearing. Short walls of stone stretched in lines, showing the shape of what once was here. She stepped over these towards an intact tower.

  It was amazing, still round, no stone out of place. Tufts of grass burst out of the ancient mortar, and a vine circled through the window in one side.

  Adhomai put a hand on her shoulder, interrupting Moralynn’s reverie. “Let me query the wood. You search about.”

  She walked straight to the tower, navigating the remainder of the foundation. She felt like a ghost, passing through with no effort. Yes, perhaps she was the haunter of this ancient place. Had she once been here, in her life before life? She stepped into the tower, then traced between the stones along the grooves left by receding mortar. Had she once done this as a child?

  She touched her head to the wall, urging her mind to remember. To go further back. Smoke filled her vision, but she saw the movement of figures.

  Be here. Do not be that other time and place.

  The figures fell into a familiar dance, and she knew what memory answered her summons. She fell to her knees and grasped her breast. The phantom sword pierced her heart again, and Raebyn loomed above, pulling her further along the blade, up towards its hilt. She could not be sure if she cried out, but she gasped, trying to get air into her lungs, which, despite no true injury, felt empty. The grip of the memory was so strong her body flared bright light and tried to repair that which was perfectly healthy. Perhaps this time she could repair fast enough to not die, or fall into that dreadful sleep.

  “Moralynn.”

  Adhomai voice’s broke the memory.

  Moralynn regained control of her body and she stood in a single motion. “Yes?”

  She was not sure if she had risen fast enough, or if Adhomai had chosen not to comment on her condition.

  “The trees have nothing to say,” he said. “Most are too young. The oldest saw stone replace wood here.” He pointed to a majestic oak that shaded the entire area. “But I could not tell if the people were your people. The tree did not recognize anything resembling a Grail, but then, would a tree recognize it?” He stepped closer to her, leaning against the wall. “Did you discover anything?”

  She stood still, but the memory still lingered and slowed her thoughts. Perhaps she had been here once. But it told her nothing of the Grail. With the Grail, then the Phoenix, she would have nothing more to fear from Raebyn, and perhaps the memory would leave her alone.

  “Nothing of consequence.”

  21

  Alexandrea was in the car, driving, alone. Her mind could barely catch up as she guided her car down the drive and entered the road. What was she doing? She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. She was getting out.

  Somehow with less people in the house it felt more full. Moralynn had stayed many days to try different Grail locations, but each was more a failure than the last. She couldn’t keep putting off her return to Annwn, so she departed, and that left Alexandrea with Adhomai.

  He was always present. Wanting to talk with her, sit near her. He did not respect the door to her office. Once, he encouraged the dead wood to let him through, bypassing the lock. He didn’t speak, just picked up a book and sat. When she thought him concentrating on the novel she tried to sneak out, but Adhomai soon followed.

  What made his omnipresence worse was her lack of human contact. Even when she went into town to check on the store reconstruction, he had to follow. It became an exercise of careful double talk as the invisible Adhomai strode around the site.

  Today she set out on a hike while he was going through his exercises. It was her one bit of free time alone, but it never lasted long enough. Except this time she found something, or someone found her.

  Adhomai’s family.

  A contingent had come seeking him out. They were willing to completely disarm, and once Adhomai confirmed their identities she realized this was safe and negotiated an escape. One of his folks had had a bad time with the Earth Marrow and suffered severe burns. She’d done a quick surface repair, which stopped the pain, but he would need more work. Which she promised to do after she had some time away.

  Now that she had some space there was only one question.

  What would she do?

  Jamie’s phone buzzed. He didn’t bother to look at it before answering. “Hey, Bobby, where are you?”

  Jamie was enjoying a night with the team at the pub after joining them for practice. It had been too sedate, but it had been some action after weeks on the sidelines. Life had picked up after that terrible vision, so he had told himself it was a one-time fluke. Maybe it was the end. That creature said they didn’t want to be seen. Maybe his mind was rationalizing the end of these fits with one terrible release.

  Since then, he tried not to push too hard. He didn’t want to step into a game until he was tip-top. Still, it was nice to be out. There didn’t seem to be any quivering shadows in the bright, loud, packed pub.

  The other side of the phone remained silent. For a moment he thought he couldn’t hear the voice due to the ruckus.

  “Jamie?”

  It wasn't Bobby. His eyes latched onto the screen.

  “Drea?” He winced. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

  “Bobby, I caught that.” She paused. “So you’re busy?”

  Days, and she calls now? Granted, he’d never called her… That was a thought. “I’m at the pub with some of the guys. Watching the Bangor City game.”

  “Oh…”

  The pub patrons exploded. Jamie caught a replay of a corner shot bouncing in off the goal post.

  Rhys sidled up to him. “Is that Bobby? He’s missing things!”

  Jamie tried to cover the phone. “No, it’s—” He paused. Since when did he care what people thought? “Drea.”

  “‘Bout time.” Rhys grabbed Jamie’s hand and ducked closer to the phone. “Come on down here, Alex, and cheer Jamie up. He’s brooding too much.”

  Jamie yanked the phone away and slapped Rhys on the back. “I’m sorry about that. You know he has no manners.”

  “Is everything okay? I thought you were healing up well?”

  Jamie grumbled. Rhys hadn’t forgotten his flaky behavior from the other day. There had been no serious incidents since, but he still acted jumpy. Rhys thought the injury made Jamie more cautious. He still had no idea Jamie saw things. But then, no one did, and it was better that way. Hopefully it was done, and he was putting it all behind him.

  “It’s fine. I’m… just trying to pace myself.”

  “Oh, good. Then could I come down?”

  Jamie pulled the phone from his ear and checked the caller again. “You sure? Did you become a fan when I wasn’t looking?”

  She chuckled. “No, I just thought I’d say hi.”

  Bangor’s forward jogged down the line, but Jamie didn’t care. He stood and wandered towards the rear for an empty table.

  “You’re saying hi right now. You don’t have to show in person to say hi.”

  “I guess.”

  A smile crept over his face.

  “Look, if I’m interrupting you guys, I don’t have to come over.”

  “No, no, you’re not interrupting anything. You’re always welcome, Drea. But why?”

  She sighed. “Since I already asked about your recovery, I can’t say it’s about that, can I?”

  He shook his head although she couldn't see it. “Nope.” He knew she didn't suddenly like football. She wanted to see him. Don’t get ahead of yourself he thought, but couldn’t help but smile. Maybe if he were moving on from some things, it was time to move on to others.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in twelve.” Drea hun
g up.

  Jamie set the phone on the battered wood surface. If it was only twelve minutes, she was already on the way. She wouldn’t say what was on her mind over the phone, though she didn't mind meeting him in public, so it couldn’t be any particularly bad news. He wasn’t sure why she just now decided to become sociable, but he would not let her run away this time.

  Twelve minutes later, Jamie lifted his gaze again. He’d already waved Bobby on by and got another round of cajoling from the guys. But they didn’t push too hard.

  Alexandrea walked in. His eyes were drawn to her at once. She looked more mellow. Her head swiveled, probably scanning the room. Jamie noticed the plunge T-shirt beneath her wrap jacket. She wore pants that tucked into knee-high boots instead of her usual skirt.

  Jamie suppressed his excitement. He shouldn’t be looking at Drea’s legs. Though they were more pleasant than phantoms. They’d been apart so long, but somehow he felt easy in her presence. Maybe she was someone he could tell.

  Jamie slammed the table. No, he couldn’t risk it. She was her father’s daughter still, and she might believe it the responsible thing to find him some help. Besides, he planned to have a different hard conversation first.

  “Jamie?”

  He shoved away the sudden worry and waved her over.

  She smiled and shrugged out of her jacket. Despite being dressed more casually, she still had the heavy jewelry—a chain of yellowy disks and blue-veined bangles covering her slender wrists. The collection of metal and gems on her fingers drew his attention.

  Her belt glinted, too, and he wondered what was hidden in the leather weave. Don’t think about that right now.

  “I’m surprised you’re not sitting closer to the tellies, though I appreciate you being up for more company.” She sat, and her hand hovered by the water. “For me?”

  Jamie shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

  “Thoughtful, but I can handle my own drinks.” She raised an eyebrow. “Jamie, why aren't you sitting with the guys?”