Goddess of Legend (4 page)

Isabel knew it was just her imagination, but it seemed the silver light intensified in response to her words, and she could swear she felt a thrill of
something.
Laughing with pleasure, she threw her arms wide and kicked up water so that drops of liquid turned crystal by the sunlight rained around her, baptizing her in brilliance.

 

 

VIVIANE couldn’t stay away from her oracle. She knew it was too soon for the tendrils of her magic to have found anyone, but she was filled with frustrated energy. So while her naiads milled nervously around her, the goddess sat in front of her oracle, a crystal basin filled with hundreds of pearls, and fretted.

When a pearl began to glow, she practically pounced on it. Plucking it from the others in the dark, silent batch, she held it up and gazed into its milky depths. The vision cleared to show an old woman sitting beside a large lake, spitting what looked like sunflower seeds into the surf.

“Younger!” Viviane said in disgust, severing the thread and sending it away from the crone. She tossed the pearl back into the basin and began to pace.

The next pearl that lit up showed a child playing beside the ocean. Viviane almost screamed in exasperation. “Not that young!” she admonished her oracle.

The next two visions were utterly unsuitable. Neither were too young or too old, they were just too ordinary. At the end of her already thinly stretched patience, Viviane plucked one long silver strand of silk from the thick fall of hair that hung veil-like around her body. Holding it over the pearl-filled basin, she twirled it in a deceptively lazy circle.

The goddess released the strand of her hair, and as the gossamer length floated down into the pearl pool, she completed the spell:

There was a flash of silver and the strand of the goddess’s hair exploded, raining sparks of liquid light, which dissolved into the pearls. Invigorated anew, silver threads rushed out from the realm of the goddess and, following seaways and lakes, rivers and streams, they searched through time and realities until one small, glowing thread shot down a tiny waterway in a faraway place called Oklahoma, in the distant, modern mortal world where, in a flash of morning light, it captured the sound of a woman’s joyous laughter as she recommitted herself to the bright possibilities in life.

Viviane heard the enticing sound and plucked the glowing pearl. Holding her breath, the goddess peered within the milky depth that cleared to reveal a full-bodied blonde, oddly attired, who was dancing within a cascade of a splashing stream. Viviane’s heartbeat increased with excitement.

“Show me her face!” the goddess commanded.

Her oracle tightened on the woman’s face. Well, she was certainly attractive. Viviane squinted and focused on her. Not young, but not too old, or at least she didn’t appear to be. And there was a definite benefit to a little age and experience. The woman laughed again, and Viviane unexpectedly found her own lips tilting up in response. The sound was musical and it changed the woman from attractive to alluring.

“Yes,” Viviane murmured. “I believe she will do quite nicely.” The goddess lifted her arms, causing power to swirl around her.

Then the great water goddess known as Coventina, Merlin’s Viviane, hurled a blazing sphere of divine power through her oracle and out . . . out . . . into another time, another place, altering forever fate’s plans for Isabel Cantelli.

CHAPTER TWO

HINDSIGHT, Isabel Cantelli decided in hindsight, sucked. She came to this conclusion after steering to avoid a chipmunk and having her SUV spin out of control.

She probably shouldn’t have been digging for her dropped cell while she was happily singing “Camelot” and driving sixty on a dirt road. She probably should have let that little dude fend for himself instead of trying to be a hero saving him. Hindsight wasn’t fifty-fifty. It was, at the moment, zero-one hundred.

But shoulda, coulda, woulda wasn’t going to help her now. She and her Nissan were flying into Grand Lake at an alarming speed.

Isabel braced herself for the swan dive they were about to accomplish, which she doubted would be graceful. The lake, which she’d found magical just minutes ago, was about to kick her in the ass.

So many thoughts raced through her mind. Strangely enough, none of the ones she expected when she knew she was about to die. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes; the life she hadn’t lived yet did.

Terror, fear of the pain of dying, that all flashed. But the sadness of what she hadn’t yet achieved was occupying her brain.

Her car hit the lake with what felt like a nuclear blast. And the air bag had exploded on her, practically trapping her in her seat. When it finally deflated, she tried to unbuckle her seat belt, but for some reason, it wouldn’t let go. Since her window had been down, the car was filling up with water and sinking fast.

Unless a miracle showed up, there was no way she would survive. She was on her way to dying, and it was terrifying. Her heart beat desperately, and she knew that wasn’t going to last long. She apologized to her heart for letting it down. She apologized to her liver for not mistreating it as much as she could have over the years. What a wasted chance. But even though she thought of friends and family, Isabel’s life never passed before her eyes, like so many assure people it will when dying.

Her focus, as her chest squeezed painfully, was all of the things she hadn’t accomplished yet. How could she have forgotten how much more she wanted out of life? The big one was that she’d never found love. Lust, sure. Attraction, sure. But not that elusive thing called true love. To look at a man and know, absolutely, they were meant for each other.

There were many others on her list, but she sure would have liked to experience the feeling of being desperately in love.

And then, suddenly, she felt alive again. And she knew, just knew, that somehow, someway, she was being given a second chance.

CHAPTER THREE

“WOULD be best if you’d awake, Isabel.”

“Just one more hour,” Isabel murmured.

“I understand the need to nap. You’ve had a long journey,” Viviane said, giving Isabel a shake.
You are my hope
. “We must needs to begin this mission right away. I need my Merlin.”

When her new hope just moaned, turned over and said, “Coffee,” Viviane felt exasperation roil inside of her. “Awake your sorry . . . person, now! But not for me you would not be here lazing and making demands. Double-cream chocolate cappuccino, yes?”

Her hope roused instantly, brushing the lush golden hair from her face. “Oh, yes, please. Where am I? Did you save me? I thank you so much. There were so many shoulda—”

“—woulda, couldas, yes, I’m well aware.” Viviane snapped her fingers and a large silver stein of coffee appeared out of the mist. “Drink first. Then we shall talk.”

The beautiful woman stared at her but took the stein from her hand and sipped. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, then peered down into the cup. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. How did you—”

“I learned quickly how to brew while visiting your time.”

“My time?”

“As I said, we have much to discuss.”

Isabel knew that she was either in heaven, because the coffee said so, or she was in hell, because the woman in front of her was so ethereally beautiful, she had to be the devil in disguise.

Then again, she wasn’t much into heaven and hell, but she knew a damn good cup of coffee when she tasted one. And it was waking her up fast, which was a good sign that it wasn’t decaf.

She looked around. She was sitting by a lake, but it definitely wasn’t Grand Lake. The flora and fauna were all out of whack. The misty fog that hovered over the water was shimmery, unlike anything she’d ever experienced there. Not to mention there wasn’t an electric pole or sign of civilization in sight.

And then she noticed her attire. Most definitely not what she’d almost died in. She was dressed in a jade green gown, long-sleeved, yet the sleeves stopped short of her shoulders and flared out at the wrists. The bodice was square and offered a view of cleavage she was most definitely not used to displaying. It was a beautiful gown to be sure, in fact it would make a thumbs-up on any red carpet, but it wasn’t hers.

“What is going on here?” she asked. “Where am I, how’d I get here, and who in hell are you?”

The woman smiled, again snapped her fingers, and while Isabel ogled, her silver mug refilled itself with the wonderful smelling coffee.

“I assure you, we, you, are not in hell.”

“Then where am I? You? Us? And why haven’t I ever photographed you, because you have to be the most excruciatingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen them all.” She sipped again, the delicious brew in her silver . . . chalice? “What’s the deal?”

“I’ve chosen you, Isabel, for a very special, very important mission.”

“I’d be flattered if I weren’t so spooked. And I’d run screaming if you didn’t conjure one helluva great cup of coffee.”

“Are you hungry as well? The Fates tell me you are partial to pastries. Some things called beignets.”

The woman went to do that snap thing again, but Isabel stopped her. “Much as I appreciate that, before you do that out-of-thin-air thing again, may I ask a few questions?”

“You deserve to have all of your questions answered.”

Isabel took that as a yes. “Were you the one who saved me?”

“Yes.”

“How? As soon as I hit the water and couldn’t get free, I knew I was in trouble.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, wiggled the toes encased in silver slippers. “All better, just like that. I was a goner for sure. And then I got this feeling of, I don’t know, a second chance.”

“Goner? You were, I think I’d say, a finder. And yes, this is another chance to fulfill some desires.”

“Well, that clears things up.” Isabel glanced around at the lush greenery, at the dense forest beyond this rocky beach. “We’re not in Oklahoma anymore, are we, Toto?”

“Toto?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as a slight. You seem to know my name and other kinds of creepy things about me. May I ask what your name is?”

“I’m known as Coventina. But you may call me—”

“As in the Lady of the Lake Coventina? As in the mythical Goddess of Water?”

The woman shined with a triumphant smile. “So you
have
heard of me in your times! Merlin assured me I’m but a long-lost myth.”

Isabel sat stunned. The shimmer that surrounded the Lady, her long, golden hair, the blue eyes that seemed to reflect the purity of the lake behind them. “You’re kidding, right? Am I being punked?” She glanced around. “Where are the cameras? You’ve done a great job of hiding them, because I can spot and smell one from a mile away.”

“I assure you, I am indeed Coventina. And none of those camera things exist, not in my knowledge.”

“I’d love that beignet now. And may I have them drizzled with—”

“—dark chocolate. Of course.” That snap thing again, and then Isabel was staring at a feast. The beignets, yes, just the way she wanted them, but also fried ham, over-easy fried eggs and potatoes with onions, peppers and bits of bacon, just how she cooked them herself. This was too good. Too perfect. Too crazy.

Then again, she was too hungry to actually be rude enough to decline.

“Do you mind if I’m freaked out?” Isabel said after licking her fingers? She started to get to her feet. That’s when she noticed that, with a wave of the woman’s hand, her slippers became glued to the earth beneath her. She tried to free herself from them, but they were definitely superglued to her skin as well.

“Please hear me out,” said the woman who, if the tales were true, didn’t really need to ask.

Isabel sat back down. “You’ll excuse me if I’m just a little . . . dumbfounded?”

“I understand.”

“You saved me from Grand Lake.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I have need of you. And I have hopes that this will all turn out so that one of your—how did you put it?—shouldas will also come true for you.”

“I’m alive. I’m not just in another world?”

“Oh, I am afraid you are definitely in another world. But it’s
of
this world, Isabel. Just not of your time.”

“Where am I?”

“If you’ve been taught about me, you’ve been taught about Camelot?”

Isabel again just stared at her. “Surely you jest.”

Coventina laughed, a sound that was so lyrical that even the lake seemed to respond to it. The lake bubbled here and there as if something beneath couldn’t help but enjoy the joke with her. “I enjoy a good jest, as do many of the men and women of the castle. But I assure you, beyond this forest is the castle of Camelot.”

“You mean like King Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere and Mer—Oh. He really
is
your Merlin.”

“Or was,” Coventina said, and her eyes immediately turned from a stunning blue to a stormy gray. “But he has forsaken this world, too devastated by the destiny he fears is in Arthur’s future.” The Lady grasped Isabel’s hand. “I must bring him back. I must. I fear that eternity will be an eternal misery without him.”