“Witches were gifted by the goddess Hecate,” Oberon countered. “They are her children and hers to reward as she chooses. Your knights use old magics that were not intended for such purpose.”
“Yet you never stopped Merlin.”
Oberon tipped his head slightly to the side, eyes bright with amusement. “We did not. We did, however, warn him that a time would come when he would face the consequences of his actions.”
“But not today, I hope.”
“Not today. Now tell me, do you truly believe humans accept the magic around them?”
“I believe most do, and I believe that more will, especially in these coming days.”
“They see death and fear brought to them by magic.”
“They also see those who protect them. The fae could help humankind see the good in magic, if you’d only help protect them.”
“Perhaps.”
Oberon turned back to the archway and led the way inside. As they moved away from the light spilling in through the cavern, a soft lavender glow became evident, emitted from patches of moss growing along the walls. Even those growths had a structured beauty to them, cultivated to grow in swirling patterns. Only the soft chirping of insects followed them, a tranquil chorus harmonized with the gentle trickle of water somewhere deeper in the cave system. Part of Arthur understood that if the Titans won their conquest, such peace would be worldwide.
But at a high cost.
“You are a fine man, Arthur.”
The fae king’s sudden compliment startled him. Arthur hesitated to speak, wondering what angle the man was playing, but the awkward silence grated at him. “Thank you.”
“I truly mean it. We may have our differences, but I respect what your knights have done.”
“Then why won’t you commit to helping?”
“Balance must be maintained in all things.”
“The Titans aren’t bringing balance. They’re tipping the scales.”
“All things have their place and their time. A seedling cannot be rushed, nor should the wisdom of the oak be ignored.”
It took every ounce of self-control he had not to strangle the fae king. Arthur hated riddles. Something told him that Oberon knew and that he’d encountered yet another test.
Fine. I accept your challenge.
The next cavern took Arthur’s breath away. A rainbow of crystalline spears jutted from all around the cavern, reminding him of an enormous geode. Glowing moss served as the carpet beneath their feet, and fireflies danced in the air. Each time they flashed, the crystals shimmered in response.
Mab and Nimue waited for them in the center, standing in a single shaft of natural light slanting in from above. One look at Nimue didn’t give him much hope. She and her mother stood apart, and while Mab’s posture remained relaxed, Nimue’s spine was stiff. While Arthur moved to stand with Nimue, Oberon took his place at his wife’s side.
“You are a good man, Arthur, and a noble soul fit to be king. Still, I have decided I am in agreement with my queen. The Winter Court will not fight beside you.”
“This is ridiculous! Millions of people will die.”
“Millions of people die all the time,” Mab said with a cold smile. “What does it matter to us if it is through a natural event or a reimagining of the world through Titan’s eyes? We will not help you, but we will not hinder you, young king. Consider yourself safe from our obstruction.”
“But—”
Mab waved a hand, and the cavern around them lit up, so bright that Arthur raised a hand to shield his eyes. When he could see again, he and Nimue stood alone.
“That’s it?”
“We knew this was a long shot, but at least they’ve agreed to let you be. I count that as a win, Arthur.”
“A small one.”
“You’re in a war. You don’t need to be watching two fronts. Now you can focus on the real threat.”
“My daughter speaks wisely.”
They both spun around at the sound of Oberon’s voice. The fae king stood between two slim trees.
“Father?”
“I realized I neglected to tell you farewell, and I also wanted to offer a parting gift.”
“I’d rather have your help.” Arthur’s words came out sharper than intended. After a tense silence, he bowed his head. “Thank you for everything.”
“You are most welcome. I know we did not give you what you came for, but this should set you on the desired path.” Oberon held out a card to Arthur. The pearly black cardstock had no name written, only an address imprinted in a delicate silver script. “Here, you’ll find the answers and the aid that you seek.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Go with my blessings, Daughter. Remember, the Titans are not the only ones capable of reimagining the world. Avalon is not merely a dream.”
Cool mist and fog billowed in to surround Arthur and Nimue, carrying the crisp and sweet leaves of autumn around them in gilded and scarlet swirls. When all settled, they were in the mortal realm again, standing beneath the lamp of a streetlight not far from the order’s hideout. The only sign of her father’s magic that lingered was a russet leaf drifting away in the wind.
Eleven
While his quest in Elfhame hadn’t gone to plan, Arthur had to admit that Nimue was right; it had not been for nothing. With the fae no longer under orders to kill him on sight, he wouldn’t have to hide away while others took risks. All his focus could go where it belonged.
On the Titans.
As for Oberon’s mysterious card, he still didn’t know what to make of it, and Nimue had no insights either.
“So the fae won’t join our fight, but they’ve given us an address to some help?” Lancelot held the card beneath a magnifying glass but ended up throwing both down to the table in disgust. “What sort of garbage is this? Kentucky? There’s nothing in Kentucky but good bourbon.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Percivale said. “It may not be the support we hoped for, but Arthur’s alive. I can’t ask for anything more from the fae.”
“Help would have been nice,” Gawain muttered.
“We all wish the fae had given us more,” Arthur said, “but this is still progress. Nimue, Merlin, and I will head to this address in Kentucky and see what awaits us. I need the rest of you to gather what allies we have and try to figure out where the Titans will strike next.”
“They could strike anywhere.” Frustration laced Lancelot’s voice. “Nimue said she saw Gaia in the fucking Amazon, thousands of miles away from Philly. She can probably pop up anywhere on Earth in minutes.”
“All the more reason to get off our asses and move.”
“Right. Fine.” Lancelot ran his hands through his hair and forced a smile, the barest hint of amusement entering his eyes. “But get us some bourbon while you’re out there, yeah? I have a feeling we’ll need it.”
Arthur clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Merlin’s magical portal took them to the edge of a pond beside an isolated cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Kentucky. Neat rows of vegetables grew beside a wildflower garden. Two rocking chairs sat on the covered porch, and an old truck parked off to the side on the gravel drive. It was the kind of clunker that spontaneously sputtered and ceased to work until someone banged the hood with a fist.
“This is the address.” Merlin scratched his bearded jaw, his gaze fixed on the cabin. “Strange. Most strange.”
“What? Do you sense something?”
“On the contrary, I sense almost nothing at all. It’s a strange sort of absence. Don’t you agree, Nimue?”
“I do. Even normal humans with no powers at all have natural energy about them. Whoever is inside doesn’t.”
“Well then, let’s go meet them.” Arthur summoned Excalibur and led the way up the steps to the porch. Before his fist touched the wooden door, it swung open, revealing a man with a head of snowy white hair and piercing violet eyes. Arthur dropped his hand to his
side and reflexively took a step back.
The old man huffed, a sound more resigned than annoyed, and then he called back over his shoulder. “Dear sister, it appears that we can add three for dinner.” He paused, dragging a critical eye over Arthur. “Though we may want to consider enough for five extra mouths. Dragons eat enough for three on their own.”
“How did you—?”
“Because he’s a Titan,” Merlin said, stepping up to Arthur’s side, Nimue close behind him. “It has been a long time, Hyperion. We’ve been looking for you.”
The old man grunted again and stepped away. He left the door wide open behind him for them to follow. Arthur glanced to Merlin, but the wizard offered no insight, a deep frown etched upon his face. Nimue was similarly tight-lipped.
“That bad, huh?”
“I don’t know, Arthur,” Nimue murmured. “We’re fighting against Titans, and now we’ve been sent to one for aid. This could go very badly or favor us greatly.”
“Are you coming in or not?” Hyperion called from inside. “You’re letting the bugs in.”
With their only other option being to leave and abandon a chance for help, Arthur strode inside. The door closed behind Nimue and Merlin with a quiet click.
The ordinary cabin’s ma and pa vibe didn’t end when they reached the next room to find a pair of rocking recliners near the enormous stone hearth. Their austere host had claimed one, and a woman sat in the other. Unlike Hyperion, her expression was kinder, with gentle warmth in her blue eyes. Merlin took one look at her and bowed deeply.
“It would seem the tales of your death were exaggerated, Lady Styx. This is an unexpected surprise.”
“Surprises are never expected. That is what makes them so fun,” Styx replied merrily. “Don’t you think, Hyperion?”
“I think they’re trouble and should leave. You have no reason to be here.”
“My father believes otherwise,” Nimue said. “At least, he believes you might stand a chance of helping us.”
Hyperion sighed, for a moment appearing as frail as his apparent age. Then he straightened in his seat and stared back at them, stern resolve in his gaze. “You wish me to fight my brothers and sisters. My friends.”
“You’ve done so before,” Merlin said. “You and others, Styx included, all fought in the first war.”
“Which, as you have already pointed out, brought me to the cusp of death,” Styx reminded them all.
“It took centuries to nurse her back to health,” Hyperion said. “It broke my heart, locking the others away. Yes, they were tyrants, but they were family.”
“Is that why you vanished?” Arthur asked. “Every story I’ve heard has you disappearing from the world.”
“Styx needed healing and rest. Everyone thought she had been killed, and I felt it was best to let that remain the case.”
“But why?” Nimue asked.
“Because of our creations,” he gestured toward Arthur.”Your forebears came into power when the dust had settled, worshipped as the new gods of this world. The few of us who had fought at their side chose solitude so we would not one day end up like our brethren.”
Arthur blinked. “You thought the dragons would betray you?”
“Is it so hard to fathom? Yes, we were allies, but we were also their creators, and they had already turned against the others. So we chose to step back and leave them be.”
“And you’ve been hiding all this time.” Merlin’s voice had a cold bite to it that Arthur recognized. He’d always thought the old man saved that particular tone for him when expressing disappointment in Arthur’s failings as a leader.
“Obviously not well enough if you’ve found your way here,” the Titan said with a polite if brittle, smile.
Nimue stepped in and laid a hand on the wizard’s arm, putting herself between Hyperion and Merlin. “Now is not the time to dredge up the past. We have more pressing matters, don’t you agree?”
“Wisely put, dear,” Styx agreed. “But you must understand that neither of us wishes to join another fight.”
Arthur silently counted backward from ten in his head, setting aside the pressing need for urgency. Rushing these two wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all himself.
“I understand your hesitation,” he began. “Fighting family is always hard; I know this as well as anyone. Anticipating a battle with the men who were my brothers in arms has been more painful than I could ever imagine, but this is a war, and they have chosen their side.”
“Your knights?”
“Yes. A few have been drawn to darkness by the Titans. They lost their way.”
“And have you had to kill them, these brothers of yours?”
“In my timeline, others have already succeeded at destroying them, but I know it’s only a matter of time before I face them in the present. I don’t look forward to it, but it must be done. It’s unavoidable if I want to save the world and everyone I love.”
“Yes, you do understand,” Hyperion said softly. “This is not a fight we can help you with.”
“You’ll just sit here in your rocking chairs and let the world burn? Do you think Gaia and the others will allow you to live?” Arthur argued passionately. “They won’t spare your acreage, and you know it.”
“Perhaps not, but it may be some time before they ever find us.”
“And you?” Arthur swung his gaze toward Styx. “Your help was honored by Zeus and the others. They mourned your death deeply. It would bring great joy for them to know that you lived. They would have sent healers, whatever you needed.”
“She had me.”
“I can answer for myself, old man,” Styx chided her fellow Titan sharply. Arthur was suddenly reminded that legend marked her as a goddess of hatred, though he knew better than most how exaggerated tales became over centuries of repeating tellings. She turned her solemn gaze on him. “I am not at my full strength, young king. I may be more hindrance than help.”
“I don’t think so. I think the very fact that you’re alive will give them pause, full strength or no. If you have the heart to stand with us.”
“And why should we?” Hyperion rose from his seat, body tense and bristling with energy. “What point is there in saving this world? These humans?”
“I thought you were fond of the humans, “ Merlin said, a sly gleam in his eyes. “At least, you were fond enough to make a child with one.”
“I— I what?”
The startled, deer-in-the-headlights look on the Titan’s face was almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Wisely, he kept his emotions in check and waited through the entire rollercoaster of emotion illustrated by Hyperion’s changing facial expressions. The entertainment began with a red flush and startled eyes and ended with the pallor of a man who understood he hadn’t been lied to. Styx said nothing at all, watching with as much curiosity as the rest of them.
“A child, you say?” Hyperion said once he found his voice again.
“A grown daughter with a child of her own now.” Merlin paused, and Arthur had a sense the old man was relishing the reveal. “A dragon child.”
Purple splotches broke out across the old Titan’s face before he furiously began to pace the floor. Styx burst out in delighted laughter, which only drew her companion’s irritable stare.
“Does he really?” she asked, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.
“He does. Selene is a lovely woman, a fabulous baker, and she keeps Loki out of trouble most times.”
Hyperion jerked around to face Merlin. “Loki? The dragon Loki? My daughter is bound to that incessant clown?”
Merlin grinned. “Yes. Happily.”
After some prompting by Styx, Hyperion dropped back into his seat and closed his eyes. “Of all things in this world, a child hidden from my sight never crossed my mind.”
“Child and grandchild,” Arthur reminded gently, taking his cue from Merlin. “A family who would welcome you, I’m certain. But only if they’re around to do so. It would be a sha
me if they were murdered by your brothers before you had a chance to breathe a word in their direction.”
The scathing look Hyperion shot him held little heat, more annoyance than anything. “Touche.”
“Does this mean you’ll help us?”
Hyperion released a heavy sigh and looked toward Styx. She met his gaze and gave a slight nod.
“How can we sit by and do nothing?”
“We cannot,” he admitted. “It’s to be Avalon or death.”
“Oberon mentioned Avalon as well,” Arthur said. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Hyperion grunted. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Though it surprises me that Merlin has not spoken of it.”
“All things have their time,” the wizard replied.
“Then allow me to name this as the appropriate time. Please, sit.” Hyperion gestured with a hand and summoned a carved bench that sparkled like an opal. Arthur took a seat, Nimue beside him, but Merlin chose to remain standing.
“Stories name Avalon as a place. In some stories, it is the realm of the fae, in others an island.” Hyperion conjured images in the air above them as he spoke, glittering mirages showing abstract figures and colorful landscapes that reflected his words.
“The island of apples, right? A mythical place where my original corpse is supposedly buried.”
“In some stories, yes. What you need to understand is that Avalon isn’t a specific location; it is an ideal. It is the promised time foreseen by Hecate years ago, a golden era where magic, science, and humanity exist in harmony.”
The images shifted, depicting figures representing various factions all standing together united.
“A world in peace,” Merlin added in a soft, reverent tone. “You have already started down the path, Arthur.”
“There won’t be any peace until we stop the Titans. That has to be my first focus.”
“Of course.” Hyperion waved a hand, and the images faded away into mist. “And I will stand with you.”
“We will stand with you,” Styx corrected. “The time for hiding and mending is over.”
“And when this is all over, I’d like to meet my daughter,” Hyperion added softly. “If I’d known….” He sighed, and his proud shoulders drooped. Little by little, the visage of an old man had begun to fade, revealing the timeless features beneath. “I have lost much time with her. There are things I would have taught her. Things to show her.”
King of Avalon: a Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (Rise of the Elder Gods Book 2) Page 11
