IK2 (30 page)

“You will stop,” he said.

Lucifer sneered at him. “You no longer control me, god.”

“Perhaps not, but now that I‟ve found you, I can destroy you.” He raised a hand

beginning an incantation in a foreign tongue.

Lucifer hesitated, then threw the cannonball down as he sprouted wings and lifted

into the air, moving at preternatural speed. Behind him the white dragon roared and

disappeared into the night as well, with Pendragon in hot pursuit.

Sophie turned her attention back to the fight that was taking place between

Michael and Balor. All she could make out was the flaming sword lunging forward,

slashing to the right and left as Michael advanced. Each time, it was met with an

invisible clash of something heavy and solid black. Pure evil emanated from that source, but Sophie could not see what it was.

From the distance came the sound of sirens wailing, no doubt summoned by the

roars of the dragons and the smoke from their battle.

Tanio moved toward Sophie, his blue hair blazing as he pointed toward the lake.

“Call the Kelpies, daughter of Epona.”

Sophie stared at him. “Kelpies?”

“Faerie water horses,” Tanio explained irritably as the fight grew more vicious

and the sirens became louder. “They will save you and Michael. Hurry. You don‟t have

much time before the police will be here. They cannot find the sword.”

“I don‟t have that kind of magic!”

“Yes, you do. The Kelpie will obey you since Epona is their goddess. Water is

not my element. I cannot summon them. Send for them.”

Feeling like a fool, Sophie ran to the lake bank. Raising her hands, she

concentrated on sending the light through her fingertips. The lake remained placid, the sirens only a block or two away.

“Nothing is…” She stopped as the water began to stir, swirling in ever-widening

circles as something roiled beneath the surface. Rogue waves rose as the water began to churn. Sophie watched in amazement as two sleek, grey heads emerged, followed by

powerful equine bodies. The horses rose gracefully about the water, landing on either

side of Sophie, lowering their heads as they bent one leg.

“Hurry up and get on,” Tanio said as Michael raced toward her. “I‟ll hold Balor

back.”

“But we‟ll drown!”

“No, we won‟t,” Michael said as he reached her. “Look.”

She looked back at the lake. The water had risen into a spout, creating a hallow

vertex in the water. Balor threw more of his black magic at them and one of the Kelpies nudged her as Tanio raised a fire wall.

“Go!” he said.

Michael lifted her onto the back of one Kelpie and mounted the other. They leapt

through air and then dove beneath the surface. Sophie felt the wet shock of coldness and clung to the Kelpies mane, sure that she would drown as the water closed over their

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 128

heads, but somehow a bubble of air remained around them. “How can this be

happening?” she asked Michael as the Kelpies gently settled on the lake floor.

He grinned and pointed.

Sophie followed the direction of his hand. A beautiful woman stood just beyond

their bubble, dressed in an iridescent gown of changing greens and blues that swirled

gently with the water‟s movement, her blonde hair floating behind her.

“Welcome to my home,” the Lady of the Lake said.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 129

Sophie shook the dampness out of her hair as they emerged from a tunnel into a

dry cave. How they had managed to walk in an air bubble on the floor of Lake

Ponchartrain she didn‟t understand and something about the tunnel had felt different,

almost as though Michael and she had crossed time periods. Still, he had not hesitated

when the Lady bade them follow her.

Glancing around the cave, she gasped in awe. What she had thought were electric

lights were actually hundreds of candles set into niches that reflected the sparkling facets of thousands and thousands of crystals. A fire was banked in a stone hearth along one

wall and just past it was a darkened passageway.

Footsteps echoed from it along with some foreign mumbling as an elderly man

with a flowing white beard emerged. His vivid blue eyes widened as he saw them. “Not

another one,” he grumbled and turned to the Lady. “Couldn‟t you have just brought the

sword yourself?”

“Now Merlin, mind your manners,” the Lady said mildly as though speaking to a

child who has been told to do so many times. “Our guest has special powers.”

“Eh?” Merlin looked at Sophie as if he were to about to dissect her to learn what

they were. “She‟s not a faerie, is she? Nimue is handful enough.”

“No,” Michael answered, “but she‟s inherited the blood of Epona.”

Merlin looked startled. “So that‟s why the Pendragon was let loose.”

Sophie looked from Merlin to Michael. “Have I had another concussion? Just

exactly where am I and why do you refer to this man as Merlin?”

“Because I am Merlin!” His white, scraggily brows furrowed. “Is she as ignorant

as the other one?”

Sophie drew herself up. “I don‟t know who the “other one” is, but I am not

stupid.”

“Didn‟t say you were,” Merlin replied sagely. “Just ignorant.”

Before she could ask what he meant, more voices sounded in the passageway and

soon a tall, tawny-haired man and a brunette woman stepped out, holding hands and

wearing satisfied smiles that gave Sophie a hint of what the y had been doing not long

ago. They looked familiar.

“Hi, Sara,” Michael said. “Good to see you again.”

Sara. His friend that had searched for the spear.
This
was the couple who had

been at the ranchero in Palo Pinto County the night Michael had taken her there to tend to a wolf.

Michael nodded reluctantly at the man built like an ancient warrior. “Ramsey.”

The man assessed Michael before replying. “McCain.”

The candle flames could have frozen from their icy tones. Sara had been a good

friend of Michael‟s and she was obviously in love with the hunk she was clinging to.

Could Michael be jealous? Sophie‟s stomach suddenly felt like she swallowed lead. His

hand came to rest on her shoulder.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 130

“I am not jealous,” he said with an amused smile.

Damn it. He‟d read her mind again. She was really going to have to establish

some rules about that, but then she heard Merlin cackle.

“I don‟t see what‟s so funny,” Sara‟s man said with a frown.

Merlin wiped at his eyes, trying to contain his mirth. “You wouldn‟t, Lancelot.

It‟s a good thing you and Tristan here never met at Arthur‟s court; you‟d have run each

other through.” He chortled again. “Two peas in a pod.”

Lancelot? Tristan?

“I can see you‟re confused,” Sara said to Sophie and smiled. “I was, too, when I

first got here.”

“Where is “here” exactly?” Sophie asked.

“We‟re in Merlin‟s cave in Cornwall...”

“
England
?” Sophie interrupted.

“Yes. I believe you met Lucas last spring, only he really is Lancelot.”

“As in King Arthur and Gwenhwyfar?
That
Lancelot?”

He looked pained. “Gwen and I were never anything but friends. Besides that

was a long time ago.”

“It certainly was….” Sophie‟s voice trailed off as comprehension began to sink in.

“Are you telling me that you were alive then? In the—what was it—sixth century?”

Lancelot bowed slightly. “I am an immortal knight.”

Sophie looked into his golden eyes, trying to see if he was jesting, but he looked

steadily back at her with no trace of a smile. An immortal knight. Well, why not? She

already met a dragon and seen two demons and Michael was a warlock—She stopped her

train of thought and turned to him.

“Did Merlin call you Tristan? As in Tristan of Lyonesse who stole his uncle‟s

wife from him?”

Michael scowled. “Iseult chased me and damn-near got me beheaded. The

writers got it all wrong.”

“Good luck with that,” Lancelot said wryly.

“Well, they did!”

“Be that as it may,” the Lady of the Lake said as she moved between them, “both

of you left enough trembling damsels in your wakes to last more than a few lifetimes.

The priestesses in Avalon will be glad to know you‟ve each found your mate.”

“More lovey-dovey talk and goo-goo eyes from another pair then,” Merlin said

with a sigh. “Can‟t an old man just be left in peace and quiet?”

“You certainly can,” Michael answered and handed the sword to the Lady.

“We‟ve got to get back. Pendragon is loose out there as well as Lucifer—not to mention

Balor.”

“It‟s not quite that simple,” the Lady explained. “It seems that the Celtic relics

want to be reunited before we use them again. The return-time portal remains locked for now.”

Michael arched a brow. “For how long?”

“Until next Beltane if the Grail can be found by Samhain and the Dish by

Imbolc when the cycle will be complete. Merlin will be your host until then.”

Merlin snorted. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Think of it this way,” Sara said with a mischievous look. “You‟ll be getting rid

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 131

of Nimue for awhile.”

As if on cue, the faerie fluttered in from the passageway. She eyed Michael

appreciatively and Sophie put her hand on his arm possessively. She didn‟t plan to

compete with a faerie, even though this one was exquisitely beautiful.

“Don‟t worry,” Michael said with a quirky grin. “Nim and I go back a long way

as friends.”

“It sounds like you have an awful lot of female friends,” Sophie said.

Lancelot started to laugh, but quickly stopped as Sara shot him a look that said he

had no room to talk.

Nimue looked from one man to the other. “Things should get interesting around

here soon. I suppose I have to leave though?”

“I am afraid so,” the Lady said and twisted the ruby pommel of the sword to

reveal a hidden hollow space. She took out a small scrap of paper. “This holds the clue for the Grail,” she said as she gave it to Nimue. “Brianna may need your help with this one.”

Nimue tucked the paper inside the low neckline of her gossamer silvery-white

gown and batted nearly transparent wings. She looked once more from Lancelot to

Tristan. “Try not to kill each other while I‟m gone, will you?” she said with an impish smile and then disappeared.

Sophie eyed Michael. “I think you owe me a long explanation,
Tristan
.”

This time, Lancelot did laugh. “The bedrooms are down the passage. I find that‟s

the best place to do any
explaining
that Sara wants.”

She punched him playfully. “Speaking of which…”

“No need to say more,” Lancelot said and picked her up in his arms and strode

away.

Merlin groaned. “Not again. That man has the stamina of a horse. ” He looked

suspiciously at Michael. “I suppose you do too?”

Michael grinned. “I‟d have to, since my mate is descended from Epona.” And

then, before Sophie could retort, he pulled her toward him and claimed her mouth with a

thorough kiss.

The End