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Authors: Katherine Roberts

BOOK: Grail of Stars
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Elphin nodded as he bagged his harp. “They always used to be protected. But Mordred used the Crown to open the gate of Annwn last year, and you have three of the Lights in one place now. The balance of power has changed. I'm not sure what'll happen if you find the Grail and take it through the mists to Avalon, but when all four Lights come together it's sure to cause some kind of magical disturbance.”


When
I find the Grail,” Rhianna corrected, trying to ignore the shiver his words had sent down her spine.

“All right,
when
.” Her friend smiled. “Don't worry, we shouldn't be long. Then, of course I'll come with you to look for the fourth Light. I'll take Merlin with me and send him with a message if we need help. Just promise you won't try wearing the Crown of Dreams again until I get back.”

“But—”

He gripped her arm with a six-fingered hand. His eyes deepened to purple. “Promise me, Rhia! Or I'll take that crown with me, too, even if it kills me like it killed Mordred.”

Rhianna sighed. He was serious. She must have really scared him in the stables, earlier.

“I promise,” she said.

Arthur’s knights sought the isle of song,

Through storm and flood their road lay long.

While in the greenwood his queen did ride,

Gathering blossoms like a bride.

R
hianna watched from her tower window as her friends trotted out of the gates. Cai rode a new black mare with the Lance of Truth balanced on his stirrup like a proper knight. Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere led a party of older squires – Gareth’s friends, on their first
proper mission. Elphin and Evenstar, already a long way in front, misted through the trees, while the merlin flew ahead.

Cai glanced back up at the Damsel Tower and waved. Rhianna resisted a sudden urge to lean out of the window and order him back. She couldn’t help thinking of last spring, when the knights had left her under guard in her room while they rode north to meet Mordred and got ambushed by bloodbeards on the road. This time, she had stayed of her own choice so she could look for the Grail. But that didn’t make watching her friends leave any easier.

“Do you wish you’d gone with them, my lady?” Arianrhod asked, peering past her.

“No,” Rhianna said, reaching for her Avalonian armour. “I’ve got more important things to do than find out how Gareth drowned.
Pack a picnic, Arianrhod! We’ll ride up to the lake where I found Excalibur, and if it’s not the lake Sir Galahad meant then we’ll ask Lady Nimue if she knows the way to the Grail Castle – it’s as good a place to start as any.”

“Now?” her maid frowned. “But it’s starting to rain, and aren’t you supposed to be having lunch with your mother? It’ll take us half a day to get up there, so we won’t be back before dark…” Her voice trailed off at Rhianna’s expression. “I’m sorry, Lady Rhia, of course I’ll come with you if you need me, but what shall I tell the queen?”

Rhianna sighed. The last thing she needed was another argument with her mother. And her maid was right about the rain, which was blowing in from the marshes in dark sheets. The weather wouldn’t stop her riding
to the lake, of course – she’d ridden through worse on her quests for the first three Lights. But it would make the queen suspicious about their excuse of a picnic.

“Tomorrow, then,” she said, reluctantly replacing the armour in her clothing chest and allowing her friend to help her into a dress instead. “The others won’t be back from the Tor until tomorrow night at least. If we set out early, we’ll still be back before them.”

With the Grail of Stars,
she thought hopefully.

Lunch with her mother was not quite as bad as she’d feared. Guinevere approved of the dress Arianrhod had picked out for her, and of the way Rhianna had let the knights and her friends ride out to the Tor without making a fuss. The queen seemed embarrassed about the slap she’d given her earlier, and
obviously wanted to make up for it.

Rhianna stayed on her best behaviour. Towards the end of lunch, she lowered her gaze and asked if she and Arianrhod could take a picnic up to the lake the next day to exercise her horse.

The queen hesitated. “I don’t know, darling,” she said. “The villains who robbed that poor squire could still be at large.”

“I’ve got Excalibur,” Rhianna pointed out. “And we’ll take some men with us, I promise. Whoever attacked Gareth probably fled when they saw the Saxons coming. Mordred’s dead now, so he can’t cause any trouble. Please, Mother? The knights don’t think my vision meant anything, and it’s been such a long winter.”

“You’re right about that, darling,” Guinevere
said, gazing out of the window. “We’ve let Mordred and his bloodbeards terrorise us long enough. I might even come with you to gather some May blossom. We should be safe enough if we stay close to Camelot, and the castle needs cheering up a bit after the mess Mordred made while he was here. When Bors and Bedivere get back, I think we’ll invite Chief Cynric and his Saxons to a feast to thank them for their help last year – we should show them how we celebrate spring at Camelot.”

“We can easily bring some blossom back for you, Mother,” Rhianna said sweetly. “You don’t have to come with us – Arianrhod can gather it. I’m sure you’re very busy here with Sir Lancelot.”

Her mother gave her a sharp look. “Lancelot can come, too. I’ll feel happier if he’s looking
after you.” She pushed her plate aside and smiled. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you in the meeting, darling. I think we were all a bit upset by that poor boy who drowned.”

Rhianna spent that evening trying to find out more about Sir Galahad and why he had died on his Grail Quest. But the other damsels giggled and said she could forget about the handsome knight, because he would never look at anyone except his friend Percival, and anyway, she’d make Elphin jealous. Rhianna went to bed in disgust.

The next day dawned wet, with rain that bounced off the roofs and made puddles in the yard. Not even Rhianna could pretend it was a good day for a picnic. She groomed Alba’s
white coat until it shone, and combed out the little mare’s tail so many times that Alba complained she would have no hairs left by the time they got back to Avalon.

No word came from the knights who had ridden out to the Lonely Tor, which worried her slightly. But Sir Lancelot said they must have taken shelter to wait out the storm, and Rhianna didn’t want to alarm the queen into cancelling their picnic, so she kept quiet about Elphin’s promise to send Merlin back with a message if they needed help.

By the time the sun finally came out on the third day, she was as irritable as her horse. When the queen suggested they wait another day for the ground to dry out, she had to bite her lip to stop herself from starting another public argument with her mother.

“Alba needs to go out,” she said as they stood in the puddle-filled yard, looking up at the sky. “Avalonian horses are highly strung. She’ll kick down the stable, otherwise.”

I cannot kick down the stable
, Alba reminded her.
My hooves will mist through the wall
.

Rhianna giggled, and Sir Lancelot gave her a suspicious look. But the queen gave in. “Saddle my palfrey,” she told the squires. “And find some sacks to hold the blossom.”

The boys rushed to obey.

Rhianna saddled Cai’s old mount, Sandy, for Arianrhod to ride. The pony seemed pleased someone had remembered him and blew into her hair.

“Just hold on to Sandy’s mane,” she told her friend. “He’s got plenty of it. You’ll be fine.”

“I’d rather walk, my lady,” Arianrhod said.

“Not through those puddles, you won’t,” Rhianna said. She mounted Alba and touched the bulge in the bottom of her pack where she’d hidden the Crown of Dreams. She didn’t know if she would need it, but she felt uneasy leaving one of the Lights at Camelot unprotected.

Guinevere took ages settling herself
side-saddle
on a pretty golden mare with a creamy mane and tail. Finally, though, they were all mounted and clattering out through the gates.

Rhianna’s spirits lifted as they rode. The sun shone warm on her face, and the rain had made everything smell fresh. Trees were just breaking into leaf. The meadows steamed around them as they crossed the bridge and turned up the road towards Nimue’s lake. As the track stretched soft and green before them, Alba snatched at her bit and kicked up her heels.

I want to gallop!

Some of their escort’s horses bucked. Sir Lancelot grabbed the queen’s reins to steady her prancing palfrey. “Not today, my darling,” Rhianna said, steadying the mare. “Or Arianrhod and my mother will fall off.”

Alba snorted in disappointment. But she bent her neck obediently, and amused herself by crossing the puddles without getting her hooves wet.

They entered the wood, where the smell of wild garlic filled the air. White blossom lined their path, which the queen insisted upon stopping to gather at once. Arianrhod dismounted to help her tie the branches over Sandy’s back, while Rhianna waited impatiently.

At last the queen was ready to move on, though they went even slower than before now
that Arianrhod was leading Sandy with his burden of flowers. As they passed the battlefield where Mordred had killed King Arthur, everyone went quiet. Sir Lancelot whispered something to Guinevere, who shook her head.

Rhianna looked across the river with a shudder of memory. All the bodies had been buried, floods had washed the meadow clean, and wildflowers bloomed over the
blood-soaked
earth. But she still remembered the ghosts she had seen in this place when they first rode out of Avalon, and how scared she had been.

I do not like this place
, Alba snorted.

Rhianna patted the mare’s neck. “Don’t worry, my darling. The Wild Hunt took all the ghosts away last winter. They won’t be back.”

The wood was more overgrown than she
remembered, and she wondered if they would find the secret path to the lake. Then a wind rippled the surface of the river and parted the branches, and she saw the familiar trail winding between the bushes.

“There it is!”

As she headed Alba up the overgrown path, a warning screech came from the trees ahead of them, and a small blue-grey falcon flew right under the mare’s nose. Alba misted to avoid trampling the bird. Rhianna nearly fell off. The men drew their swords as the little falcon darted past them, spooking their horses too. Green mist curled along the trail in its wake.


Merlin
…?” Rhianna twisted in the saddle, her heart thumping. She fumbled Excalibur out of its scabbard so she could talk to the druid’s spirit, if it was him.

But the merlin had banked sharply overhead, darted back and disappeared into the mist again. They heard faint shouts from the lake and the sound of splashing.

“Someone’s up there,” grunted Sir Lancelot. “Careful, Princess—”

Rhianna was already galloping after the merlin, sword in hand. The champion knight muttered a curse and came after her, but his big horse was slow through the wood and she arrived at the lake first.

Mist curled over its surface, and white lilies bloomed around the shore, just as they had when she’d dived into the depths to claim Excalibur from Lady Nimue. It had been winter then, but magic lingered in this place all year round. Rhianna could see no sign of the merlin. But something big creaked across
the water, and a tall silvery mast glimmered in the mist. She halted Alba on the beach and stared at it, her neck prickling.

Just like her vision… except the ghostly ship was turning
away
from the shore, back into the enchanted mists.

She urged Alba on to the surface of the lake, in front of the ship. “Wait!” she called, her stomach churning as the big prow loomed over her. “I know it’s been a while since you told us to meet you, but I’m here now! Don’t go without me, please.”

Hooves crashed through the wood behind her as the others caught up. She heard her mother’s voice calling, “Rhianna darling, don’t be so foolish! Lancelot says we should go back now…”

This ship has ghosts on board
, Alba reported.

“I know it does, my darling,” Rhianna said, steadying the mare. “Don’t worry, they’re friendly ghosts.” She hoped so, anyway.

Excalibur shone brightly in her hand, lighting up the deck. The golden-haired Sir Galahad wrenched at the tiller to avoid her, while a lanky young ghost with dark hair clung to the rail, staring queasily at Rhianna and Alba as the ship slid past. It took her a moment to recognise the drowned squire, Gareth. A shiver went down her spine as she realised he must have been the boy lying on the deck in her vision.

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