Grail of Stars (15 page)

“MORDRED IS NOT DEAD!” the shadrake boomed. “HE HAS DRUID BLOOD SO HE SURVIVED THE FIRE. YOU MUST BURN HIS DARK FIST TO FINISH HIM.”

Rhianna felt sick. So the dark knight was still alive! Gareth had been right all along. Oh, why hadn’t she listened to the squire’s ghost, instead of charging off after the Grail and leaving Elphin in danger on the Tor?

“What about Elphin?” she demanded. “Is he hurt?”

But the shadrake had flapped off into the mist, green light trailing from its tail.

She stared after it in frustration. How far could they trust the druid?

Cai gaped after the dragon, too. Holding the Lance, of course, he must have heard every word.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me,” Gareth said, rippling back into view with his arms folded.

Arianrhod set down Elphin’s harp beside the Grail and rushed over to the motionless merlin. She stroked its bedraggled feathers and let out a sob. “Oh, Rhia… I’m so sorry. Is your hawk dead?”

Rhianna nodded, distracted. “Yes.”

“Poor old Merlin!” the maid said. “What happened to his spirit? Did the shadrake kill him?”

“No…” Rhianna frowned at the sky, wondering why Merlin had risked spirit riding the shadrake again. It wouldn’t let the druid’s
spirit stay in its body very long, if she knew the creature. Did Merlin really mean to rescue Elphin and bring them the pathfinder?

“The mast must’ve crushed him,” Sir Bors said. He shook his head at the dead bird and kicked the splintered wood. “Well, we’re in a fine mess now. I don’t know what Merlin was thinking of, leading that dragon here! It’ll take ages to fix up those sails. We’re takin’ on water too by the looks of things, and God only knows where we are.” He frowned into the mist. “Although… is that land I see, or just my old eyes playing up?”

Rhianna tightened her grip on Excalibur and stared across the water. Rising out of the fog, she saw a lone hill. Uther’s ghosts glimmered green around its shore.

“It’s the Lonely Tor!” Cai said. “We’re back in the land of men.”

Rhianna was still trying to decide whose side Merlin was on. His warning echoed in her head.
Do not follow me
.

She grinned at her friends. “At least we’ve found the missing Tor!” Before anyone could stop her, she’d climbed over the rail into Alba’s saddle. “Elphin’s over there. Come on, Cai. Let’s go and spoil Mordred’s fun.”

D
ARK
B
ARGAIN

M
ordred paced up and down the chapel. Every time he passed a window, he stopped to scowl at the green mist that surrounded the Tor. It had grown thicker since Merlin left with the shadrake on his tail. He’d sent the dragon after the bird to make sure the druid came back. But they had both been gone far too long.

He turned his scowl on the Avalonian boy, who lay motionless on the altar, his wrists and ankles tightly bound with Morgan Le Fay’s enchanted rope. Gareth’s mother knelt beside
the captive, crumbling herbs into a bowl and using a rag to drip her potion between his lips. It did no good that Mordred could see.

“If the druid’s tricked me…” he growled, clenching his mortal fist until pus oozed out. “I’ll wring his pathetic hawk-neck!”

The woman looked up fearfully. “I’m sure he hasn’t, my lord,” she whispered. “You’re his son. Every parent wants to help their child.” A tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at her patient, obviously thinking of her drowned boy.

“Oh, stop your snivelling, woman!” He kicked her bowl with his shadow-foot. It clanged against the wall, spilling its contents across the floor. Candle flames hissed as the chapel darkened. “You don’t know
my
parents, and that shadrake’s no more trustworthy
than the druid. Wouldn’t surprise me if the pair of them haven’t flown off to Avalon and forgotten all about me.”

Then he heard wing beats outside in the mist and saw a black shadow swoop towards the tower. At least his shadrake was back. With any luck, it would have killed the druid and saved him the bother.

“Leave us!” he ordered the woman. “Run down to the village and see if there’s any sign of my cousin yet. I’ve things to do up here.”

Gareth’s mother flinched as the shadrake landed on the roof, knocking off some tiles. She checked the fairy prince a final time, before escaping down the path to the beach.

Mordred climbed the bell tower to reach the shadrake’s level. He kept his mortal fist safely hidden under his cloak.

“Well?” he said. “Did you manage to get me any of the Lights?”

The creature’s neck curved downwards. Its huge eye peered in through one of the arches at Mordred. Deliberately, it breathed ice over him.

Mordred stood his ground as the shadrake’s breath frosted his hair. His shadow-body could not feel the cold.

“YES,” boomed the dragon. “I HAVE GOT ONE OF THE LIGHTS.”

“Good.” Mordred’s heart beat faster. He held out his shadow-hand. “Give it to me.” Would it be the Lance or the Crown, he wondered. Probably not Excalibur, knowing his cousin – and he doubted she’d managed to find the Grail. But any Light would be of some help when the girl got here.

The shadrake’s snout came closer. Mordred did not like the look in its glowing red eye.

“NOT YET,” it said. “FIRST GIVE ME THE SPIRAL PATHFINDER YOU TOOK FROM THE AVALONIAN PRINCE.”

Mordred frowned. He closed his mortal fist over the silver spiral hanging around his neck.

“I don’t make bargains with dragons,” he said. “I’m a Pendragon, remember! You must obey me.”

“YOU DO NOT WEAR THE PENDRAGON CROWN,” the shadrake pointed out, its eye whirling in amusement. “I HAVE IT IN MY POUCH. IF YOU WANT IT BACK, YOU MUST GIVE ME MY PATHFINDER.”

My
pathfinder? Mordred scowled. What on earth did the stupid creature mean? But at least it had brought him the Crown – now he just had to work out how to get it out of the dragon’s pouch without losing the druid charm in the process.

As he looked for somewhere safe to leave the little spiral, he heard ghostly hand claps behind him. “Oh, very good Merlin!” said an amused voice. “Almost worthy of one of your old tricks.”

Mordred spun round to see his mother’s spirit glimmering at the top of the steps. “Having trouble with that shadrake, my son?” she continued. “It always was a wilful creature. Not to worry, though. I doubt the druid will be in control of it for very much longer.”

She turned her attention back to the
dragon. “Nice try, my dear. What happened? The shadrake eat your little falcon’s body? Saved our boy the trouble of wringing its neck, anyway.”

“You mean…?” Mordred stared into the shadrake’s red eye and saw the truth. “
Merlin
!” he whispered, taking a step backwards as he realised what must have happened. No wonder the shadrake and the merlin had been gone so long – the druid had made another spirit transfer!

“GOING TO WRING MY NECK, WERE YOU?” said the shadrake. “WITH YOUR PUNY MORTAL FIST? YOU ARE WELCOME TO TRY,
MY SON
.”

“No,” Mordred said, taking another step backwards. “I didn’t really mean it…
Mother
! Do something!”

The witch laughed again. “It was your idea to let the druid fly off to look for King Arthur’s daughter. You’re lucky he didn’t take his pathfinder with him the first time – if he had, Rhianna and her friends would be in Avalon with the Grail of Stars by now, and we’d be in a lot more trouble than we are already. Don’t be such a coward, my son. You no longer need to fear injury, remember. Your shadow-body cannot be harmed by man or dragon. Watch.”

As she spoke, she walked fearlessly around the belfry underneath the shadrake, unwinding another length of glowing green rope from her waist. The dragon could not see what she was doing, but Mordred saw the witch loop her green rope around the dragon’s hind leg and grinned. He’d forgotten
his body was more or less invincible now.

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to distract the shadrake. “Did you see the Grail? Has my cousin found it?”

The creature’s eye gleamed. “MAYBE.”

“What do you mean,
maybe
? Don’t you know? I thought you were supposed to be a druid! You ought to know such things.” He clenched his fist tighter about the spiral, forgetting it was his mortal hand. One of his rotting fingers snapped off inside his gauntlet, and Mordred yelled in sudden pain.

His mother chose this moment to pull the green rope tight. “Well don’t just stand there, foolish boy!” she snapped. “Tie this to something strong.” She tossed the other end to Mordred, at the same time throwing a glittering spell into the shadrake’s eyes.

Mordred fumbled the catch with his broken finger. But the witch’s magic confused the creature long enough for him to knot the other end of her enchanted rope around a pillar. The shadrake shrieked in fury and tried to take off, but the enchanted ropes of Annwn kept it tethered. Tiles rattled around them as its huge wings crashed against the roof. Mordred retreated down the stairwell in alarm.

His mother’s ghost rippled through the dragon’s thrashing tail and smiled at the creature. “Even the great druid Merlin doesn’t know everything… do you, my dear? Or you would never have lain with me that night, knowing our child would turn out to be such a needy fool. Mordred here had all the advantages. Raised as a prince
of Camelot and knighted by King Arthur, with a powerful enchantress for a mother, the last of the druids for a father and an army of bloodbeards supplied by our allies in the North. Yet he lets a half-grown girl – a damsel who grew up in Fairyland with no knowledge of battle – get the better of him! What are we supposed to do with the boy?”

Mordred caught his breath. He hated it when his mother talked over his head like this. But he had to admit her magic came in useful at times. He hoped her rope would subdue the shadrake before the stupid thing demolished the tower.

“You brought me into this world, Mother!” he snapped. “The least you can do is help me rule it! I’ll soon find out if my cousin’s got the Grail. And if she has, then I’ll make her give
it to me. She and her friends might hold more of the Lights than we do, but
I’ve
got her precious fairy prince.”

He glanced down the stair at his captive lying on the altar and smiled, imagining Rhianna’s reaction when she saw the Avalonian boy.

“As for your bargain, Father,” he continued, more confident now the shadrake couldn’t reach him. “I’ll keep your pathfinder – and I’ll allow you to keep the Crown of Dreams for a bit longer. I’ll get it out of your pouch later, when my mother’s magic has stolen your dragon-strength. Besides, I want to be awake when my cousin Rhianna arrives. As you say, Mother, my cousin’s a damsel. That’s her weakness. She might carry her father’s sword, but we’ll soon see how much
of a warrior she really is, when she’s faced with a choice between her quest and her heart.”

The shadrake hissed a final plume of ice at him. Mordred turned his back on the angry creature, walked through his mother’s ghost, and headed down the stairs. He made himself walk slowly, even though his neck prickled with every step at the thought the dragon might get loose. He only hoped the druid’s spirit would not escape the dragon’s body.

Morgan Le Fay’s ghost followed him down the tower. “Be careful, my son,” she warned. “When the girl gets here, she’ll try to use the Lights she holds to rescue her friend.”

“That’s where you come in,” Mordred said. He glanced up at the rafters above the altar and smiled. “My cousin never stops to look before she leaps. We’ll fix one of your
enchanted nets up there in the shadows. Our brave Rhianna won’t see it until too late.”

T
he two Avalonian horses galloped through the green mist towards the Lonely Tor, kicking up a silver spray. Excalibur shone in Rhianna’s hand and the Lance of Truth glittered in Cai’s, clearing a path through Uther’s shadowy warriors.

Rhianna smiled grimly. Their mad race reminded her of last year, when she and Cai had ridden across the flood surrounding Camelot and fought their way through her grandfather Uther’s ghost-army to reach Mordred. Back then the Saxons had helped them. This time, they had only Sir Bors and the two ghosts on the ship to help them… and possibly Merlin, if he was still on their side.

Mordred is alive.

She thought of the shadrake carrying off Mordred’s dark fist last year, and Lady Nimue’s warning to burn all of him. She had tried using the Crown of Dreams to persuade the dragon to bring the fist back again so they could burn that too, but dark magic had worked against her. Now she knew why – Mordred must have been using the fist to grow his new body.
She gripped her sword tighter. When she met her cousin this time, she’d be ready for his tricks.

“Do you think Merlin can control that shadrake?” Cai called, looking nervously at the sky.

“We’ll soon find out!” Rhianna shouted back. “Stay close to me when we reach the Tor. Don’t get separated. The important thing is to rescue Elphin and find Merlin’s spiral pathfinder so we can get the Lights to Avalon before Mordred gets hold of them.”

She slowed Alba when they reached the beach, and they trotted warily between the dark rocks. Seaweed swirled around the mare’s hooves. The little horse crunched one of the pods between her teeth and snorted in surprise.

Salty apple!

“That’s not an apple, silly,” Rhianna said, looking for a path off the beach.

As they left the water, Evenstar pricked his ears and neighed loudly.

“Shh!” she warned. “We don’t want to announce our presence to the whole Tor.”

“Er… I think we’ve already done that,” Cai said. He pointed at the cloaked figures running towards them along the beach.

Rhianna gripped Excalibur tighter, her heart thumping. But it wasn’t Mordred’s bloodbeards, as she’d feared. An old man in a stained monk’s robe stumbled up to them and caught Alba’s rein.

“Thank God you’re here, Princess!” he gasped. “Prince Mordred’s devils have taken over the island! They won’t let anyone leave. They cast us out of our church and drowned
one of your boys while he was here visiting his poor mother. The devil himself is up there, with that foul dragon and God knows what else out of Annwn…” His voice trailed off as he noticed Cai’s youth. He frowned at the sword in Rhianna’s hand and peered hopefully behind her. “How many men have you brought?”

Rhianna stared up at the Tor. The green mist hid its summit, but she could just make out a dark tower on top, where black wings flapped against purple lightning. She shivered, reminded of her vision when she’d worn the Crown on the day the Saxons had brought Gareth’s body to Camelot.

“Have you seen Mordred, then?” she asked, shaking spray from her braids. “We thought he was dead, but I’ve been told he’s still alive.”

“Dead or alive, what’s the difference when
he has dark magic on his side? There’s some swear they’ve seen his witch-mother up there, too, and she’s been dead for years.” The monk scowled. “But we’ll be all right now Arthur’s knights are here – they’ll know what to do.” He cast a relieved look at their ship coming out of the mist.

Rhianna pulled a face. “It’s obvious what we need to do – we’ve got to stop Mordred! Have you seen an Avalonian boy? Violet eyes and six fingers on each hand? He’s our friend.”

The others muttered uneasily. A woman pushed forward, her eyes swollen from crying. “I did my best for him, Princess,” she said. “But I am afraid he’s going to die, like my poor Gareth…” She glanced up at the Tor and its purple lighting.

“Elphin’s in your church, isn’t he?” Rhianna
headed Alba for the path that wound up the hillside.

“Wait, Princess!” called the monk, running after her. “You can’t go up there.”

“King Arthur’s daughter can go anywhere she likes,” Cai said, lowering his lance across the monk’s path. “We’re on Pendragon business. Stand aside!”

With a rattle of hooves, Evenstar came cantering after Alba.

“No, I mean there’s dark magic at work in that tower,” the monk said. “You can’t go up there alone, Princess – it’s too dangerous! At least wait for your knights.”

Rhianna had no intention of waiting for anyone. If Elphin was Mordred’s captive, then she had to rescue her friend as soon as possible. She checked Cai was still in his saddle and
urged her mare into a gallop. “Race, Alba!” she whispered.

By the time they reached the top of the Tor, both mist horses were breathing hard. It was cooler up in the clouds, and thick green mist hid the path. At first she thought they had come the wrong way. Then the church loomed before them, apparently deserted. Lightning still flashed around its tower, where she could make out the dark form of the shadrake filling the belfry. But the creature was too big to enter the building, and seemed to be asleep.

Rhianna forgot about the dragon. The door stood open. Inside, she could just make out an altar with candles flickering around it. A body lay on it, unnaturally still.

“It’s Elphin!” Cai said, gripping his lance with a fierce look. “Mordred’s killed him!”
He tried to make Evenstar approach the door. But the little horse shook his mane and backed away, snorting with fear.

Smells bad in there
, Alba warned.

Rhianna hardly heard. She leaped off the mare and ran towards the door, Excalibur blazing in her hand. Elphin’s wrists and ankles had been bound with glowing green ropes. Seaweed was tangled in his dark curls and his eyes were closed.

Every nerve in her body wanted to rush inside and free him. But remembering Merlin’s warning about the trap, she stopped at the doorway. The chapel smelled musty, like a dragon’s lair. Her skin tingled with echoes of magic.

“He’s not dead,” she whispered to Cai, who had dismounted to join her. “There’s no need
to tie a dead person’s hands and feet to stop him running away, is there?”

Cai didn’t look convinced. “Is he asleep?”

“I don’t know.” Rhianna took a shuddering breath and warily thrust Excalibur’s gleaming blade through the doorway to check the shadows inside. “I can’t see anyone in there with him. Wait out here with the horses. If anything happens to me, ride straight down to the beach and fetch Sir Bors.”

Cai tightened his grip on his lance. “I’m not leaving you, Damsel Rhia!”

“Guard the door, then. No sense both of us getting caught, if it is a trap.”

She took a careful step inside the chapel. Then another. Nobody jumped her. When she swung Excalibur round in a circle, she couldn’t see any bloodbeards lurking in the dark.

She continued slowly across the chapel to the altar. Keeping a good hold on Excalibur, she touched Elphin’s cheek with her free hand. It felt like ice. The ropes seemed to be stuck to his skin and glowed brighter green when she tugged at them.

“Elphin?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

At the sound of her voice, a freezing wind howled through the doorway, blowing out the candles and plunging the chapel into darkness. She whirled as the heavy chapel door slammed shut behind her. She heard Cai banging on it and his voice calling faintly, “Damsel Rhianna! Are you all right in there? What happened?”

Excalibur was blazing brightly again. But she still couldn’t see anyone. Her heartbeat slowed. It must have been a draught. She
opened her mouth to tell Cai she was fine – and a chuckle came out of the shadows behind the altar.

“I knew you would come, cousin.”

Her scalp prickled. She knew that voice.

She turned slowly. A figure dressed all in black stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the bell tower.

“
Mordred
,” she hissed. She clenched her fist on Excalibur and took a step towards him.

The dark knight spread his arms wide and grinned at her, inviting her to attack. She couldn’t see a weapon under his cloak, and they seemed to be alone in here. Fearing a trick, Rhianna hesitated. She glanced up the stairs. Was the shadrake still up there? It was very quiet.

“I knew you wouldn’t abandon Lord
Avallach’s son,” Mordred continued. “The fairy lord won’t be very pleased when you return to Avalon without its prince. I doubt he’ll give you back your father’s body once he hears the sad news.”

Fear for Elphin banished her caution. “What have you
done
to him?” She sprang around the altar and rushed at her cousin, sword raised. As she did so, Mordred looked up and smiled.

Rhianna slithered to a stop as a green glimmer fell from the rafters and landed over her head, entangling her in sticky, glowing ropes like those that bound Elphin. Just as Merlin had warned her, it was a trap and she’d walked straight into it!

Excalibur had caught in the net as it fell. But she still managed to keep hold of her
sword and slashed desperately at the cords to stop them from tightening around her. The ropes recoiled under the enchanted blade, hissing with green smoke. She struggled free with a shudder and ran to the door. But she could not open it. A green curtain shimmered across it, like the one that had kept them out of the fort at the North Wall, when Mordred had been duelling with Sir Lancelot. She tried to slice her way through using Excalibur, but as fast as she cut it the curtain sealed again. From behind the green veil, Morgan Le Fay’s spirit smiled at her…
dark magic
.

“Get help, Cai!” she yelled. “Mordred’s in here with the witch’s spirit!”

Mordred stalked her slowly across the chapel, swinging a large battleaxe he’d been hiding behind the altar.

“Still fighting, cousin?” he said with a chuckle. “Such a shame to fail your quest because you cared too much for an Avalonian boy. He’s not mortal, you know. He doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” Rhianna said thinking of the gentle kiss Elphin had given her back at Camelot when she’d been accepted as King Arthur’s daughter. She ducked under the dark knight’s axe and swung Excalibur towards what should have been Mordred’s crippled leg. But he leaped the shining blade to land behind her.

She whirled in surprise, and he laughed at her expression.

“That was hardly fair, cousin, now was it?” he said. “What about your father’s knightly code? If an opponent is crippled or wounded, you must give him a chance to surrender before you try to kill him.”

She stared at his leg. It was difficult to see in the shadows, but it did not look twisted any more. He kept his right arm hidden under his cloak, though, and held his battleaxe in his left hand.

She smiled grimly. “You didn’t give my father a chance to surrender before you killed him, did you?” she said. “I saw you duelling in Merlin’s song-pictures. You betrayed him! Your own uncle and king.”

“Betrayed is a strong word,” Mordred said. “And Arthur chopped off my sword hand in that duel. So we’re even.”

Rhianna backed towards the altar. He came after her, swinging his axe until she was forced to grip Excalibur with both hands to ward off his blows. Her blade did not break – it had been forged in Avalon, which made it stronger
than any mortal blade – but her arms trembled with effort. Her cousin felt so much stronger than the last time they had fought! And his leg definitely seemed to be healed, though he still kept his right hand hidden. She remembered Gareth’s ghost claiming Mordred had two hands now, and shuddered.

All had gone silent at the door. She hoped Cai had gone to fetch the others. She tried to remember what Sir Bors had taught them in sword training if they found themselves fighting a stronger opponent.
Height and cover… use the surroundings to your advantage
. Watching for her chance, she thrust Excalibur at Mordred’s right arm to make him overbalance, and then sprang the other way. If she could put the altar between them, she might be able to delay him until the knights came.