Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) (22 page)

That made Dylan stop and think for a moment. “I don’t know. I didn’t think Sir Dagonet…”

“What, wot? Did I hear my name?” the knight said, slipping into the chair next to Dylan.

I sat back again. “We were just wondering about dinner, that’s all, sir,” I answered, not wanting him to know that we’d been talking about him.

“Yes! I am famished. I could eat a whole side of beef by myself,” Bridget said, brightly.

Dylan raised his hand and caught the attention of the barmaid before Bridget could say anything more.

“Sorry I took so long getting cleaned up, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, giving Bridget a big smile. “I appreciate you waiting for me, don’t you know. We’ll be sure to get you enough to eat.”

Bridget gave him a smile and an enthusiastic nod. “Oh yes, thank you. My poor sister–in–law is probably having to do the same for all of my brothers all by herself now, poor thing. And I can tell you that when they are hungry, there is just no managing them. They’re like animals, grabbing for what they want across the table, across each other...”

We all laughed at the image Bridget painted, while I tried to ignore the stab of jealousy and sadness that poked into my side. Bridget had grown up with five loving brothers—a family—while I had been an outcast. No. That was not true, I reminded myself. I’d had Father Llewellyn and Aron. They were both important and very wonderful, even though they weren’t really my family.

“You must be missing them a great deal, Bridget,” Sir Dagonet said.

“Oh, well…” Bridget thought about that for a moment then gave a shrug. “But this is so much more exciting. I’ve never been away from home before.”

“I still can hardly believe Lord Lefevre had you captured in that way,” Sir Dagonet said, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t Lord Lefevre, sir,” Dylan said. “It was a Vallen.”

“Who claimed to be Lady Nimuë,” I added.

“Nimuë!” Sir Dagonet exclaimed, looking down at the table for a moment, his bushy white eyebrows drawn low, but when he looked up again his eyes sparkled with mischief and he gave me a wink. “A little old, was she?”

“Actually, sir, she didn’t look old at all. But she did claim to be the same Lady Nimuë who entombed Merlin in the tree,” I answered.

Sir Dagonet nodded. “Well, if it was Lady Nimuë, or even if it wasn’t, she doesn’t seem to have been a very pleasant person, wot?”

Dylan laughed. “Not at all.”

“Best to head off somewhere where she’s not so likely to find you, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet added with a smile.

My stomach dropped. “Yes, but where?”

Much to my annoyance, it was just as these words left my mouth that our dinner was served. All conversation stopped as we began to eat. Although I had been as hungry as Bridget a few minutes ago, my stomach now rebelled at the thought of food.

“Just how powerful a Vallen is Lady Nimuë, sir?” I asked.

Sir Dagonet sat chewing his food. “Oh, more powerful than you could imagine,” he said, his eyes smiling while his mouth could not.

That wasn’t entirely reassuring.

“But don’t worry, I happen to know three very powerful Vallen, don’t you know?”

I widened my eyes at this, as hope rose within me. “Who? Where can we meet them? When…”

Bridget laughed. “I think he means us.”

“Oh.” I sat back as the three of them laughed. Grudgingly, I smiled as well, but as I thought about this, it became a true smile. My brothers had said something along the same lines—that being able to change into a bird was something only very powerful Vallen could do. And even Sir Dagonet had been impressed with my ability to break Dylan’s suggestion. So, yes, maybe I was a powerful Vallen. And possibly, even as powerful as Bridget and Dylan. We’d escaped from Nimuë once, hopefully we’d be able to take her on again if need be.

I was able to eat with a lighter heart after that.

Our companionable silence was interrupted, however, by a burst of laughter from the noisy group of men at the table nearby. One man slammed his tankard of ale down onto the table, he was laughing so hard. “…and that look of absolute terror that old witch gave Tom just before she went under?” the man was saying.

“She should have been scared. She knew where she was going—straight to the fires of hell,” another said chuckling.

I spun back around fast, my eyes meeting Sir Dagonet’s and then Dylan’s. The merry twinkle was gone from the knight’s eyes, and Dylan looked as if he was going to be sick.

“We need to leave,” Bridget said very quietly.

“You will stay and finish your dinner.” Sir Dagonet said, sounding more fatherly than I had ever heard him. “Then we’ll all retire and get an early start tomorrow.”

“An early start to where?” Bridget asked.

Sir Dagonet looked around, as if the answer were somewhere on the table. He then shrugged and said with a wry smile on his face, “I would suggest someplace far away from Lady Nimuë.”

“Why not back to Gloucester?” Bridget suggested. “With my brothers there—”

“That is just where she would look for us first,” Dylan said.

“Sorry, Bridget, but your brothers would be no match for Lady Nimuë—if that’s who it really was, wot?” Sir Dagonet said at the same time.

“With all of us there and them…”

“Bridget, you saw how powerful she was with that glamour,” Dylan pointed out.

“I would love to return to Gloucester and spend more time with my newfound family,” I put in, “but what if Dylan is right? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Lady Nimuë followed us there. And if anyone should get hurt because of us…”

Worry crept into Bridget’s eyes at my words. Silently, she nodded her head. “Well then, where?”

“I’ve heard the king has sent out a decree calling for all witches to be found and burned at the stake,” Sir Dagonet said, with a side glance at the men at the next table.

“We should go to Wales,” I offered. “They don’t follow the English king’s edicts so readily there.”

“No.” Dylan put down his ale with a thunk.

“Oh, and who do you think you are to make that decision?” Bridget asked, suddenly very testy.

“I have as much right to say where we go, if not more.”

“More? What, just because you are a man?”

“That’s right, because I am a man and I’m one of the oldest amongst us.” His eyes bored into Bridget’s, but she didn’t back down a touch.

“I knew it!” She turned toward me. “I knew we should never have gone to meet him. He won’t work with us, he…”

“Bridget, just calm down,” I said, putting my hand on her arm. I turned back to Dylan. “Is there some reason why you don’t want to go to Wales, Dylan?” I asked, hoping he would have a good answer and not just be trying to manage things as Bridget thought.

“Yes.” He gave me the smallest hint of a smile. “I have just come from there and I know that the ch—” He stopped himself with a quick glance at the men at the next table. He turned back to me saying, “I know that we should stay in England.”

“Oh,” Bridget said, immediately understanding what he’d been about to say, as we all did. The chalice was in England. We needed to be here.

I leaned forward a little. “Do you know where?”

Dylan lost whatever good humor there was in his face. “No. But I know it is in England.”

“Well, then,” Sir Dagonet said, interrupting before we could question Dylan any further. “It is in England that we stay, wot, wot?”

“Despite that?” I asked, gesturing to the men with a small movement of my head.

“Despite that,” Dylan nodded.

Even Bridget nodded her head at that one. But I wasn’t happy. I understood the need to find the chalice, but if there was a witch hunt going on… A cold wind blew down my spine. I didn’t like this.

Chapter Thirty

T
he ground slipped closer to me then retreated once again as I gave a strong pump of my wings. It was so tempting to skim my feathers over the tops of the trees, but I wasn’t quite confident enough in my flying to do such tricks.

It was just that they looked so green and inviting. The lush forest was filled with oaks and maples, elm and chestnuts—so many grand trees, and I was above them all. They were so much nicer below me than when I was below them.

The forest gave way to a large blue lake. The color of the sky on summer’s day, the water calm and placid. I circled the lake, enjoying the fresh, sweet–smelling air that wafted up from it. Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes for just a moment to savor that smell. There was nothing sweeter.

I opened them again to a thunderous sound and found myself quickly approaching rougher water. Directly in front of me was the most magnificent waterfall I had ever seen. It must have been at least fifty feet of straight, falling water. The water’s spray reached out, cooling me and making my feathers sparkle in the sunlight as if covered with diamonds.

I angled up and caught a current of air to pull myself to the top. There, an ancient circle of stones reached up to the sky—their mystical foundation calling out to me. As I circled the stones, a pure white hawk joined me in my flight.

It was my friend! I recognized it at once. Warm feelings spread through me as I glided myself closer to the hawk. It, too, took a brief look over at me and moved closer so that the tips of our outstretched wings just touched.

The hawk flew a circle around me and then led me down the other side of the hill where there was a green surrounded by lovely white marble buildings. The lake curved around the land and came close to meeting with the buildings.

It was a breathtaking sight. The white buildings standing out from the brilliant green of the grass, so closely touched by the deep blue of the lake. I knew this was a happy place, a safe place. Everything within me told me so.

I followed the hawk as it circled down to the shore. My landing was not so graceful, but I regained my balance before turning to stare at the hawk—no, at the beautiful woman standing close to me.

Her bright, blue eyes crinkled into a smile, while her reddish–blond hair flowed around her face, falling all the way down her back, almost reaching to her knees. Everything about this woman moved about her as light as a breeze, from her smile to her hair, to her fluttering white dress.

“Welcome home, Scai,” the woman said, her voice deep and warm.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I was so overwhelmed. So many thoughts and feelings were rushing through me. Tears pricked my eyes, but they were tears of happiness—tears of such immense joy that I could barely contain them.

There was only one thing I could do, and without a moment’s hesitation I did so—I put my arms around the petite beautiful woman, lay my head on her shoulder, and began to weep, releasing all of the tensions I had held deep inside me ever since I had left my home in Tallent.

“Shhhh. It is all right, my daughter, it is all right. You are safe here.” She held me, allowing me my moment of weakness, but soon she lifted my chin so that I was forced to look at her. “Remember, no matter what, you will always be safe here. And I will always be here to welcome you home.”

“Scai. Scai!” Bridget’s voice penetrated my mind.

I fought against waking, but even as I did so, my beautiful dream began slipping away.

Bridget gave me a shake. “Scai, wake up. We need to go,” she said.

There was an urgency to her voice that forced me to open my eyes. “Go? Go where? Have we decided where we’re going?”

“No. We’re going to meet Dylan and Sir Dagonet downstairs to decide, remember?”

“Oh, yes.” I did vaguely remember saying we would do so last night, before we all retired to bed. I had been so tired at that point I could hardly make it up to the room I was sharing with Bridget. Between the two of us, we had managed somehow to get to the room, strip ourselves down to our plain white shifts, and fall into bed.

This morning, however, Bridget had already washed and dressed and was urging me to do the same. But it was so nice and warm in bed, and I’d been having the most wonderful dream. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle down and regain my lovely dream.

I let my eyes drift closed once more.

Who was that woman? Was it my mother? She had called me daughter. But somehow that didn’t seem right. And my mother was gone from this life, while this woman was most definitely alive.

She was my hawk! And all this time I had believed the hawk to be male. I almost laughed at myself. The hawk was a female—a woman who lived in the most beautiful, warm, and welcoming land…if only we could go there, we’d be safe there.

“Scai!” Bridget gave me another shake.

I groaned. “All right. All right.”

It took all of my will to get myself up. As I did so, I lost the lingering good feelings from my dream, and began to worry about what the day would bring. Since a good portion of the previous day had been spent keeping Bridget and Dylan from fighting, I really hoped this day would be better. Well, anything would be better than yesterday—attacked by animals, kidnapped, and then nearly losing all of my magical powers—no, nothing could be any worse than that.

I splashed cold water onto my face. Goose bumps sprang up all over my body, sending me scrambling into my warm woolen dress. The mornings were definitely getting colder as the year moved more firmly into autumn.

As I accompanied Bridget down the stairs, I looked surreptitiously around the taproom. What a relief: the witch hunters weren’t here this morning. I joined Sir Dagonet with an easy stomach. Dylan joined us barely a minute later, water dripping from his curls—he had taken the time to bathe. I wished I’d had that luxury as well.

“I had the most incredible dream last night,” Dylan began, accepting the tankard of ale from the serving maid.

“Really? I did too,” I said. What a funny coincidence.

“Me, too!” Bridget exclaimed. “It was beautiful, filled with lots of women in flowing white dresses. And they were all laughing and talking and feeding me the most delicious fruit I’ve ever tasted. There were some who were practicing their archery skills, and others fighting with staves. And they all lived in the loveliest white marble houses that were warm all the time. I think there must have been fires somewhere because I could feel the warmth of them, but I never saw one.”