Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (30 page)

Ella Mae was taken aback. “Why else would you be here?”

“It’s not your life that I’m after.” Nimue shifted and her crimson gown pooled over the surface of the rock like spilled blood. She held out the sword. “Once I have what I came for,
I don’t care whether you live or die.” Gazing at Ella Mae with a studied casualness, she said, “It’s your magic I want. Every ounce of it. I need you to pour it out until you have nothing left. When that’s done, I’ll be on my way.”

“You’ve already abused your own powers beyond measure. You’re not taking a thing from me,” Ella Mae said. “Look around, Nimue. This place marks the end of your journey. You might as well put down that sword right now and spare yourself any suffering.”

Nimue laughed again. It was a cold sound that swept over the glade like a winter wave. “No, Ella Mae. I won’t suffer.” She pointed the tip of her sword at the back of Hugh’s neck. Because he was gazing at Ella Mae with a look of cool detachment, he didn’t see the movement or how Nimue’s face transformed. He didn’t see the crazed smile and zealous gleam in her dark eyes or seem to understand what she meant when she whispered, “But
he
will.”

Chapter 16

Ella Mae felt a stab of fear. Her gaze flicked from the three priestesses, who stood numbly at the base of Nimue’s rock, to Loralyn’s pinched face to Hugh’s glazed stare.

“What does Hugh have to do with this?” she asked, returning her attention to Nimue.

Nimue lowered the green blade and scraped at a patch of moss with the tip. “Everything. He’s the reason I had to wait so long for this moment. Initially, I’d planned on a complicated kidnapping scheme, but when you took away his source of power, which forced him to travel abroad, you saved me the trouble.” She performed a mocking curtsy. “Thank you for that.”

“What have you done to him?”

With an indifferent shrug, Nimue said, “Even elementals have their limits.”

“Why are his eyes that color? They were bright blue when he left Havenwood.”

“They’ve become the shade of the water he walked into with this sword.” She gazed down at Hugh as if he were an obedient dog. “He had to drown to reclaim his powers. To become an elemental again beneath the surface of that cold, Irish lake, he had to die. That lake claimed part of him. He’ll never be the man he once was, but such is the price of magic.”

Though Ella Mae didn’t want to believe what Nimue was saying, she sensed it was the truth. And yet she clung to the ever-diminishing hope that the Hugh she loved could still return to her.

“You don’t know much about elementals, do you? In fact, you don’t know much about any of us.” Nimue gave her a wolfish smile. “I’ve studied for years and years. Ever since I first heard about the Clover Queen legend.” She twisted her head to the right, baring her neck, and then raised the sword so that its eerie light illuminated the birthmark on her skin. It was the same distorted clover in the crime-scene photos from Fiona’s house and in the burned grass near Dee’s barn. “I fit all the criteria. Except one. My father wasn’t one of the Fair Folk. He wasn’t
aes sídhe
. He was just a small-minded man, and a mean drunk to boot. When he was lost at sea, I saw that as a sign. I could still rule, but I’d need to overcome a few obstacles.”

“You can’t rewrite a legend,” Ella Mae said.

“Aren’t there multiple versions to all of our stories?” Nimue asked, and Ella Mae had to nod in agreement. The tales concerning their kind varied from author to author, making it difficult to discern the truth in any of them.

“You found another Clover Queen legend?”

Lowering the sword again, Nimue began to spin the black hilt with one hand. Tiny sparks flew from where the blade bit into the rock. “Only after I became Lady of the Lake, which required a significant sacrifice.”

“Your mother.”

“Yes,” Nimue admitted without a trace of remorse. “It was a necessary act. I had to prove my devotion if I wanted find the entrance to Avalon. I’m sure you’re aware that the Lady of the Lake can create an Avalon anywhere, but the original place contains an unrivaled archive of magic. Scrolls and books penned by Morgan le Fay, the first Nimue, Myrddin—all of
their
predecessors. Diaries, alchemical formulas—a treasure trove of arcane wisdom—all housed in an ancient temple overlooking a subterranean lake in the Black Mountains of Wales. The cave entrance leading to this lake is surrounded by treacherous bogs and is eternally covered by a layer of glacier-thick mist. Avalon is down there. I found it, and I spent a decade absorbing every scrap of knowledge I could. Focusing on dead languages in school certainly paid off.”

Ella Mae was a little daunted by Nimue’s knowledge. Not only was she cruel and calculating, but she was also dangerously smart. Too late, Ella Mae realized that she’d underestimated this woman.

“Tell me of the legend you found in Avalon.”

Nimue stopped spinning the sword and straightened. “Well, now we’ve arrived at the crux of the matter. The version you read was probably incomplete. Did it end with the usual lines about the Clover Queen breaking Myrddin’s curse and uniting the
aes sídhe
?”

Reluctantly, Ella Mae inclined her head.

“That’s the abbreviated legend. The longer one goes into detail about how the Lady of the Lake and Morgan le Fay were once allies. Friends, actually. Such was their bond that the first Nimue tricked Myrddin into surrendering his powers to her, even though she was in love with him. She put him in an enchanted sleep and sealed him away in a cave or inside a tree. Soon after, the non-magical began to take over the
land. Nimue grew old and died, but not before penning the Clover Queen legend.” She grinned. “You know the first bit. A woman would be born to two magical parents. She’d discover her gift later than was customary and she’d bear the mark of the clover. Her magic could be used to restore the old ways. Our glory days, so to speak. The extra lines state that it will take
all
of her magic to break the curse and that she must willingly sacrifice her power. In other words, you must give everything you have to save the life of another.” She shrugged. “Who better than the man you love?”

Ella Mae waved off the idea. “You said yourself that he’ll never be the same. Why would I give up my abilities for someone who’s become a stranger to me?”

Nimue’s dark eyes narrowed. “Because you’re soft. You lured my misfit army away using fireworks and a song. From the second you knew I was heading to your pathetic little town you’ve lost sleep over how you could possibly protect every one of its insignificant inhabitants.”

“This may come as a surprise, but you don’t know every detail,” Ella Mae said breezily. “After all, it’s easy to conceal things from a spy once you’ve discovered their identity. If it were me, I’d be wary of information obtained by an envious siren and a pitiful selkie.”

Nimue looked impressed. “So you’ve captured Marin?” She glanced at the priestess to her left, and said, “I guess you can have those sealskin boots, after all.”

Ella Mae waved at Nimue. “We’re talking about legends, not footwear. So let’s say you get what you want and I mysteriously pour out all of my magic. What then?”

“I return to Avalon.” She tilted her face skyward, inviting the moonlight to wash over her sharp features. “The Lady of the Lake is a title. So is Merlin. Once you give me what I came for, I can wake the Merlin. Together, he and I will
elevate the
aes sídhe
to new heights. We both want the same thing, you and I,” she added in a honeyed tone. “To break this curse. To live as we choose without fear.”

“But to succeed, you’d destroy anyone brave enough to oppose you,” Ella Mae snapped. “The original Nimue sacrificed her own happiness to protect us from being cursed any further. You’re nothing like her. You shame every Lady of the Lake who’s come before you.”

“And you’re a pathetic excuse of a queen,” Nimue hissed, her mouth twisting into a snarl. “Like I said, you’re soft. And because you’re soft, you won’t let me kill Hugh Dylan. I’ve bet my entire future on it.”

Before she could raise her sword, Ella Mae pushed her goggles over her eyes, and yelled, “Now!” Jumping between two trees bordering the clearing, she covered her ears a second before a deafening boom accompanied by a searing light filled the clearing. Despite the protective goggles, tiny dots danced at the edge of Ella Mae’s vision and she felt nausea rising in her throat. Struggling to regain her senses, she focused on the butterflies.

What she saw was a cloud of wings moving in the night sky. The butterflies were traveling over the strip of sand where Reba had beached their boat. In less than a minute, they’d be ready to swarm.

Ella Mae sat up gingerly, relieved that the dizziness and nausea had passed. She pulled off the goggles and glanced around. The clearing was deathly still. Loralyn and the priestesses were splayed on the ground, unmoving. Ella Mae had no idea if they were alive or not, but she was certain they were no longer a threat.

Hugh was glassy-eyed. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead from where it had struck Nimue’s rock, and a dark bruise was already shadowing his skin.

As for Nimue, she was crouched like a panther above Hugh. Her lips were pulled back, revealing a flash of white teeth, and she clutched the sword so tightly that it was biting into her palms. Droplets of red dripped onto the stone, but she seemed unaware of the pain or her injured hands. Trembling with rage, she rose to her feet and glared at Ella Mae with undisguised hatred.

“I will take pleasure in watching you suffer.” Nimue wiped her bleeding palms one at a time on her red dress and then grabbed the sword hilt with both hands. “Tell your friends to get out of here or I will kill them without a second’s hesitation. As long as I hold
Caladbolg
, no one can defeat me.”

Having moved closer, Ella Mae was now able to hear a dull hum coming from the sword. She remembered how the Flower of Life had hummed and pulsed with power. She remembered how its magic had coursed over the grove, permeating every stone, leaf, and blade of grass. Nimue wasn’t making an empty boast. It was time to separate her from her weapon.

“Take Loralyn and retreat,” Ella Mae said, looking first at Fiona and then at Reba.

Well aware of Ella Mae’s plan, Reba scurried over to where Loralyn lay. After checking for a pulse, Reba shot Ella Mae a brief nod and then hoisted Loralyn’s inert form over her shoulders. For such a small woman, Reba’s strength was formidable, and Ella Mae felt a rush of pride watching her beloved friend disappear among the trees. She was relieved that Loralyn was alive and would be taken out of harm’s way. Reba would carry Loralyn to the boat, secure her hands with plastic zip ties, and make her as comfortable as possible until they were all ready to leave the island.

Ella Mae wished the same could be done for Hugh. He
was slumped against Nimue’s rock, having probably passed out while Nimue and Ella Mae were talking. He was completely vulnerable now and could do nothing to defend himself should Nimue carry out her threat.

There was a movement in the brush, and Ella Mae realized that Fiona had refused to fall back. She entered the part of the clearing where the moon acted as a spotlight and pulled off her goggles. “I wanted you to see my face before this night was over.”

Nimue recoiled in shock. “Fiona?” She lowered her hands and gaped in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

Ella Mae heard the note of tenderness in Nimue’s voice and suspected that, at this moment, Nimue was not the Lady of the Lake, but a little girl from a small village in the Orkneys.

“Aye, lassie. It’s me.” Fiona spoke very gently, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. She looked much smaller and older in the pale light—especially with Nimue towering over her from her rocky perch.

“I knew you were in Havenwood, of course,” Nimue said. “And that you’d begun working for our baker queen, but I never expected to see you. It’s been so long. So very long . . .” She stared at Fiona. “Have you come seeking vengeance?”

Fiona unslung her crossbow and set it on the ground. “I know better than most that I can’t hurt you as long as you have
Caladbolg
. After all, who told you the tales about this sword, the Lady of the Lake, the Clover Queen, and Myrddin in the first place?”

Nimue allowed herself a tiny smile. “You did.”

“I filled your head with too much nonsense,” Fiona said contritely. “I should have taught you more practical things. As children grow, most leave their childish imaginings behind. But not you, Nimue. Your fantasies took over. They
turned you into a different person. You could have had a happier life if you hadn’t been born with that mark. And your mother would still be with us.”

“But they weren’t wild imaginings. The stories were true,” Nimue protested. “The sword was at the bottom of Avalon’s lake, waiting for a new Lady to claim it. It has the power to hurt and the power to heal, just as the legends say.” She tilted the sword blade so that the moonlight danced along its beveled edge.

Fiona pointed at the weapon. “Something that powerful could be used as a permanent source of magic. We could create another grove like Havenwood’s. Why don’t we bring it home, you and I? Ours could be the most amazing grove in all of Great Britain.”