Knight of Darkness (19 page)

On that bridge the course of history had played itself out. The destiny of the world of man and fey had collided and left a permanent rift between them that would most likely never be repaired.

In one day, everything had changed. A king had died, one prince had been killed, and two more had been laid to rest in stasis until they were summoned again to refight this battle. Three cities had been pulled out of time, and Varian and Blaise had been left to try and keep their enemies from ruining the world she’d been born to. They were unknown guardians fighting a thankless, bloody war that had left scars on both of them.

Feeling for their sacrifice, she reached to take Varian’s hand in hers.

Varian paused at the foreign sensation of someone’s hand holding his. It was the first time in his life that anyone had done that. As a child, his mother and father had grabbed him by the upper arm, hair, or collar of his tunic to drag him about.

And when she laced her fingers in his, something inside him melted.

He offered her a hesitant smile as they followed after the others who were already on the bridge he didn’t want to cross. This was a sad reminder of a day he’d just as soon forget. The only man who’d ever meant anything to him had drawn his last breath here.

It was all he could do not to turn and run, but Varian was anything except a coward. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to approach it.

As he stepped foot on the old wood, his conscience burned. He could feel Arthur here. He could hear his voice whispering to him. And all too easily, he could see him fighting against his nephew. See the two of them locked in heated battle like two rams who struggled to reign supreme. Even now the sound of sword against armor and shield rang in his ears. The smell of blood infiltrated his head.

It made his heart ache to think of Arthur falling to Mordred. He should have been here that day…

A sudden wind stirred, whipping his hair around his face and blinding him. Merewyn let go of his hand to pull her own hair out of her eyes as her face paled. She held it at her neck with both of her hands as she passed a nervous look to him.

Out of nowhere a mist surrounded them. It blocked the light until they were swathed in absolute darkness. There was no sight of the fire below. No sound or smell. It was as if all their sensations were blocked by something evil.

“Who goes there?” a demonic voice roiled out from the mist.

Before he could even part his lips, the two brothers cried out, “Derrick, Erik, and Merrick. Servants of Merlin.”

There was a brief pause before the voice responded. “Then you may pass.”

The three of them ran across the bridge to the safety of the other side.

Varian frowned, wondering why they were so afraid when it didn’t appear to be that menacing.

The mist curled around Blaise and seemed to swallow him whole. “And who are you?”

“Blaise, son of Emrys Penmerlin.”

It pulled back until the light highlighted Blaise’s form. His long, white-blond hair whipped around his shoulders before it settled quietly into place. “Be welcome to our domain, son of Merlin.”

Blaise started forward, then paused to look back at Merewyn.

Again the mist thickened around Merewyn as if it were caressing her. “And who are you, lady?”

She shifted as if it were making her uncomfortable. “Merewyn of Mercia…I know nothing of Merlin other than the legends people tell of him, but I am friend to Blaise and the others. And I travel with the bantling named Beau. He can’t speak yet, but he’s harmless to all.”

“Then you, too, may pass.”

She smiled at Varian before she reached to take his hand again.

Varian started forward with her, only to find his way blocked by some unseen energy. That same
thing
forced their hands apart and pushed Merewyn away even though she visibly fought it.

“Varian!” Merewyn shouted as she and Beau were driven across the bridge.

He inclined his head to her while he waited for the demon to question him.

“And who might you be?” it demanded.

“Varian duFey. Knight of Arthur.” The hot wind blasted him so hard that he wasn’t sure how he kept his feet. It smelled of sulfur and fire that was so pungent, it was all he could do not to choke on the stench.

“Traitor!”

Varian tensed as he finally placed the voice who accused him. “Sagremor?”

The mist cleared to show him the image of a knight who’d died centuries before. Sagremor had been another knight of the Round Table and had died here on this bridge, fighting Mordred before Arthur reached him.

He’d been the first to turn his back when Varian had moved forward to be knighted. But not before the man had spat on the ground before Varian’s feet.

Now Sagremor condemned him again. His dull gray armor cast no reflection or light in the darkness. But his eyes blazed red through the slit in his helm. “How dare you call yourself a knight of Arthur when you wouldn’t even defend him!”

Varian curled his lip. “You know nothing of my loyalties.”

“No, but I know of your cowardice.” Sagremor drew his sword.

“Varian!” Merewyn shouted. “No! You leave him be!”

To Varian’s shock, she actually picked up a rock to throw at Sagremor’s back, but it glanced off the armor harmlessly.

Sagremor threw his hand out and shot a blast that knocked her back. Rage suffused every molecule of Varian’s body as he drew his sword and charged forward.

“Don’t you dare harm her!”

Sagremor turned and brought his sword down hard against Varian’s. The force of the strike reverberated through his body as Varian summoned his own black armor into place. If this was to be a fight to his death, then he intended to make it count.

Merewyn pounded her fist against the invisible wall that kept her from the fight. “Blaise!” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Do something.”

“Like what?”

“Stop them.”

He moved forward to strike against the wall, too. “I’m no more effective than you are.”

Beau then took up her cause, slamming himself uselessly against the wall. But nothing he did made any sort of wave in the field.

Growling in frustration, she splayed her hands against the wall and watched as Varian ducked below one swing and rose to kick Sagremor back. He swung at Sagremor’s head only to have the knight raise his sword sideways to block the strike. Sagremor knocked Varian’s blade aside, then sliced up from under Varian’s arm. Varian twisted away, feinting to the right to slice at the man’s leg. Sagremor lifted his foot and kneed Varian hard in the chest, then brought his sword down to slice his back. Varian raised his sword just in time to block the stroke.

He shoved Sagremor back. The knight struck the side of the wall.

“Sagremor!” The disembodied male voice was fierce with anger.

He looked up at the gray sky above them. “My liege?”

“Release the fey and let him pass.”

“But—”

“There are no buts in this. Do as I say.”

Varian stood back and cast a suspicious look toward Blaise, whose face was ashen.

She knew instinctively to whom the voice must belong. “Merlin?”

Blaise gave a subtle nod.

Sagremor’s eyes glowed a vicious red before he vanished into vapor.

Varian didn’t move at first. Instead, he listened for the sound of Sagremor attacking him from behind. After a minute, he finally trusted enough
to start his hesitant journey toward Merewyn and Blaise, both of whom were still standing behind the wall.

It didn’t recede at his approach. He met Merewyn’s sad amber eyes. Wanting to comfort her, he splayed one hand over hers, but still he couldn’t feel the warmth of her touch. He held his sword in his right hand as he glanced up toward the dismal sky.

“Merlin?” he called. “I can’t leave the bridge.”

The words had barely left his lips before he felt a rush of air that was followed by the sensation of Merewyn’s hand on his. She curled her fingers around his as if afraid something would rip him away from her again.

That sensation gave him more comfort than he ever wanted to admit to feeling. He would have kissed her hand had the others not been watching them so intently. As it was, he walked forward with her by his side.

Beau cooed and hugged his leg as he waddled beside them. What a strange sight they must make.

And as he neared the end of the bridge, the gray lifted from the landscape. It flowed over until everything was lush and green. For the first time since they crossed over, he could hear the sounds of insects and birds.

Merewyn paused, gaping at the breathtaking beauty around them. “What happened?”

“There’s always green here,” Derrick said.
“Merlin keeps the outside dismal so that Morgen won’t know that he’s free of his prison.”

Varian was baffled by that. “Why does he stay here?”

Derrick shrugged.

He looked to Blaise for an explanation.

But he was no more helpful than Derrick. “I never understood his motivation for anything.”

“I’m just glad he’s here,” Merewyn said softly. “Given his powers, he should easily be able to get us into Avalon, right?”

Varian let out a nervous laugh. “Here’s where I have to remind you that nothing has been easy up until now. I find it hard to believe that that’s going to change.”

Her gaze bored into his. “Have faith, Varian.”

He shook his head at her. How could she have faith in anything? Especially given the centuries she’d spent with his mother. But as he looked at her, he found an alien part of himself wanting to believe in her faith. To believe in her.

Unwilling to think about that, he glanced to the triplets. “How far to Merlin?”

“Not much farther. A few hours.”

“Merlin?” he called, but only the cry of birds breaking into flight answered him.

“He won’t speak if you call him,” Merrick said irritably. “He doesn’t like being questioned. We’ll have to make our way to him if you want an audience.”

Varian cursed. Unfortunately, that was too
much like the man he remembered. “He was always an unreasonable bastard.”

“Hey now, that’s my father you speak of.”

As if that mattered? “And?”

Blaise shrugged. “I just felt the need to point that out.”

Varian let out a tired breath before the triplets began to lead the way again. They didn’t speak much as they traveled. Rather, the triplets seemed to be keeping their eyes peeled for something, which made both him and Blaise keep their eyes peeled for whatever was unsettling them.

“Should we be concerned?” Merewyn finally asked the unspoken question.

Merrick snorted. “Always. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

Blaise cast a wry grin at Varian. “Sounds like someone else took a tumble into the pit of despair.”

Varian laughed. “Yes, but at least we have sunshine now.”

“True, very true.”

Merewyn listened to the men bantering as she and Beau trailed behind them. For hours they walked, and as time passed, she felt more and more strange. She couldn’t place the sensation really. It was as if her stomach were troubled and at the same time there wasn’t anything really wrong with her.

It wasn’t until she brushed her hand through
her hair and came away with a handful of it, that she let out a cry of dismay.

The men froze and turned to face her.

She stared at the dark curls that were wrapped around her fingers as horror filled her. “I’m turning back into a hag, aren’t I?”

Merrick and Derrick turned away. Blaise’s eyes were filled with pity, but even he didn’t dare speak of it.

Varian only gave a subtle nod.

Utter despair filled her as tears gathered in her eyes. But she didn’t let them fall. She was stronger than that. Really she was.

What was beauty anyway?

Freedom…

She stifled that voice as Beau gently stroked her leg. It’d been too much to hope that Narishka would spare her. She should have known the woman’s cruelty would drive her to this.

“Please, Beau,” she said, her voice breaking from her tears. “I want to be alone.”

He made a sad noise before he waddled to Blaise, who took his rocky limb into his hand. The mandrake’s violet eyes betrayed his pity.

The triplets, Beau, and Blaise withdrew, while Varian approached her solemnly. He cupped her cheek in a gentle hand as those green eyes burned her with friendship.

“Don’t think about it, Merewyn.”

And that succeeded in bringing her tears out.
They streamed down her face as his kindness burned through her. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t want to be a hag again.” She placed her hand over his and held it close to her cheek. “Please, Varian. Show your mercy. Kill me.”

His grip tightened under her hand as his eyes snapped furiously. “Don’t you
dare
say that to me. You can’t give my mother that victory.”

“What victory? She destroyed me long ago.”

“No, she didn’t. You’ve survived her cruelty.”

“To what purpose? What good is my freedom when no one will look at me?”

“I’m looking at you, Merewyn.
I
see you.”

She swallowed at his sincerity. At the kindness of his touch. She gripped his hand tightly in hers before she lowered it from her face and held it between her hands. Her heart heavy, she stared at the strength of the tanned flesh. At the scars that marred his knuckles. His hands were large and capable. Manly.

Never again would she have the chance she had now. “I know how you feel about this, Varian, but I would ask a favor of you.”

“I will not kill you.”

“Then make love to me.”

Varian froze at her unexpected words. “What?”

“Before I’m completely ugly again. Before she steals any more of my soul. Make love to me, and I won’t end my life. Give me a reason to fight her.”

“And you think that will do it?”

“Please, Varian. I want to know, just once, what it’s like to be held by someone. Show me what kindness and intimacy are so that I can hold on to them and fight for them.”

He was aghast at her words, and at the same time, how could he deny her? She was right. As a crone, no one would touch her. His mother had seen to that.