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Authors: Laura Anne Gilman

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BOOK: The Shadow Companion
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The phrase seemed familiar to Ailis, but she couldn’t quite remember why.

“I tied myself to my ally,” Morgain went on, “made vows and obligations, as my ally vowed and
obligated itself to me in return.

“This is how such magics are worked, witch-child.” Even under the circumstances, Morgain was a teacher, willing her students to understand, as well as accept, what she said. Newt began to see a little of what Ailis found so appealing in the woman. “You must give, in order to receive, no matter who or what you are.”

“So what can we do?” Newt asked, still not quite understanding their role.

“Help free me from my obligation, so that I may strike out against it, without that strike damaging myself as well. In order to be freed, I must know the source of its power—its true name.”

“You called it, and you don’t know its name?” Newt was openly dubious.

Morgain shifted her attention to him. It was uncannily like being the focus of Arthur’s regard.

Newt felt both comforted and disturbed by that reminder that they two were, after all, half siblings.

“Not what it is called, but its True Name, the name given to it at Creation.”

“And that would be…” Gerard asked.

Morgain looked at the squire as though he had
just been discovered under a particularly heavy, flat rock.

“If I knew what it was, I would not need your assistance to free myself, would I?”

“Why us? Why not Merlin?”

“Because Merlin’s too powerful,” Ailis said, finally figuring it out. “She won’t indebt herself to him. To us—she can accept that. Anything we ask of her in return, she thinks she can either grant, or find a way out of it.”

“And if
we
go to Merlin?”

“Then we’re the ones indebted to him, not her.”

“Oh. Right.” Newt understood how favors worked. “So, what, we’re supposed to hare off across the island, without a clue…”

Morgain and Ailis both sighed in exasperation. Gerard said, “I never said I did not know where it was hidden, merely that I did not know it,” Morgain said. “It watches me too closely, too carefully, for me to go search for it myself.

“Go to its source, the place where I called to it.” She withdrew a small, rolled parchment from the sleeve of her dress and handed it to Ailis. “I will distract it here as best I can, to allow you time and freedom to perform this act.” She paused, then
caught Ailis’s gaze with her own. “For the land, if not for me, witch-child.” She smiled wryly. “For Arthur, if you must. But do it, and do it swiftly, before my companion forces me to act.”


S
ir, we
must
go!”

Sir Matthias clearly was not of the same opinion. He stood behind his field desk, a complicated wooden affair covered with maps and missives weighted down by rocks, and stared impassively at Ailis, squinting in the early morning sunlight. “I forbid it.”

Frustrated, Ailis turned to Gerard. Gerard felt helpless, but gamely stepped forward.

“Sir, I know how it sounds, truly. And from anyone else I would not believe this story myself. But Ailis is right. Morgain would not come to us without dire need—she is too proud, too haughty. Anything which frightens her should frighten us. And if that means helping her…in battle, often enemies become allies, and allies enemies, is that not true?”

Sir Matthias grunted, but did not agree or disagree. Emboldened, Gerard went on. “This is a great danger to us all. How can we say no to her request? Especially if it does, in fact, place her in our debt, somehow?”

“Courtier,” Newt muttered to the salamander again curled around his neck, but he did so quietly, and with a small amount of respect. Sir Matthias was listening to the squire’s words, at least, which was more than he had done for Ailis’s impassioned but emotional outburst.

But the next words from Matthias’s mouth dashed those hopes. “Lad, I have warned you about the dangers of spending too much time with those who would use magic—especially those not to be trusted. Arthur told me of your previous experiences with that woman, and his fears for what dire influence she might have had on you—”

Ailis’s indignant yelp of outrage at that comment was quickly muffled behind Newt’s hand. Another outburst, and Sir Matthias would not only not listen to them, he would have them locked up somewhere for their own good!

“Sir!”

“Not one more word, Gerard.” The four were
alone in the space outside Sir Matthias’s tent, although a few of the squires were hanging just within earshot, clearly hoping to catch some juicy bit of gossip. Knowing that, Matthias lowered his voice. “You have been given great leeway, in light of your service to the king. But you are still a squire. And these other two do not even have that excuse! Now, be silent, and no more talking with Morgain, or I shall be forced to return you to Camelot!”

“You do that!” Ailis said, having finally wiggled free of Newt’s hold. “You just do that! Better yet, let me save you the effort of sending us back!

“Merlin!” She called up into the sky, the power and venom in her voice making Sir Matthias step back involuntarily and cross himself, and sending most of the eavesdropping squires fleeing. “Merlin, you talk to me
right now
! I know you can hear me, blast you. Answer!”

The blast of power that came through her voice was echoed in a low, rolling peal of thunder off in the distance. Ailis blinked, a little surprised at herself, but did not back down.

Out of the thunder there came a higher-pitched noise: the scream of a bird of prey, swooping down on an unsuspecting hare. From the sky came a great,
shadowy form, plummeting to land on the grass next to Ailis.

A fleeting shimmer, and the bird’s wings extended and the torso grew, and grew, the body turning and twisting on itself as the astral bird became the figure of a man.

Merlin had answered.

“By all the old oak, girl, I’m busy!” He glared at Ailis, clearly expecting her to apologize. She glared right back.

“Tell…Sir Matthias”—the honorific came with difficulty from her, she was so angry—“that we need to go. Morgain asked us for help, Merlin! How can we refuse?”

Merlin blinked, his craggy face not losing an inch of its irritation, but refocusing with visible effort on the here and now. In her frustration, she had clearly forgotten that he had no idea what she was talking about. “Right. Hold a moment.” He reached out with one hand and touched the side of her face with his fingertips, a single feather falling from his skin as he did so. “Think hard what you need to tell me,” he commanded her.

The two boys and the knight waited while Merlin took what he needed from her memory. When his
hand dropped and Ailis’s eyes opened again, Newt realized that he had been holding his breath.

“Absolutely out of the question.”

“What? But Morgain said—”

“Morgain says many things. Few of them are to be trusted. Ailis,
think
, girl. Do you really believe that I would endanger Britain this way? If Morgain’s life were truly so necessary to the land’s well-being, wouldn’t I have dealt with that already?”

Merlin was making a great deal of sense, and Newt could feel his own commitment begin to wane. Morgain was not, after all, to be trusted. Merlin had sworn to protect the land as well.

“Merlin!” Ailis was less willing to listen.

“She is
not
to be trusted, Ailis. Her touch is poison, her malice is toward all beings in Camelot without equal. She hates Arthur and all people affiliated with him, and you are not immune to her. No. I forbid it. I forbid it. You are
not
to leave this camp.”

Something heavy settled over them, thickening the air. And for an instant, Newt could not breathe. He was being forced down, forced away from himself, somehow. A red haze began to rise over his eyes, making it impossible for him to think, only follow.
Something stirred in his blood, deep and heavy, and he beat it down. Anger had never served him, not once, and he would not let it rise up and master him now.

“I refuse your geas,” Ailis said, raising her hands as though to throw off that heaviness, and suddenly Newt could breathe again, the red haze fading as quickly as it had risen, his normal, rational thoughts taking over once again. “You will not take our choices away from us!”

“Ailis!”

“No, Merlin.” She met his look again, head-on. “You will not remove our choices from us. Not by force, and not by magic. Not ever.”

And with that, she turned and walked away from the group.

“Women!” Merlin muttered, and with an upward swing of his arms, leapt back into feathered form, rising like an arrow back into the sky and disappearing before he reached the first cloud.

Gerard looked at Newt to read his reaction. Sir Matthias was spluttering in confusion as to what had just happened. Without speaking, Newt turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Gerard to try and calm the knight down.

 

Hours later, Gerard was finally able to slip away from Sir Matthias, who had seemed determined to fill the squire’s every moment with errands and small, foolish details. He found Ailis, as expected, back by the fire where Morgain had first summoned them the night before.

She was sitting cross-legged in front of the now dead fire, her trousers visible underneath her skirt. She had not been wearing them before. Her long red hair was braided around her head, the way Morgain had been wearing hers, and a leather sack was on the ground in front of her.

“What happened back there?” he asked, sitting beside her, feeling exhaustion pull at him. They had not slept much the night before, and as dusk rapidly approached, his limbs became heavier, and his brain more fogged.

“Merlin tried to put a geas on us.” Gerard looked at her blankly. “It’s a spell that would not allow us to leave the camp.”

“You broke it?”

Ailis nodded. “I suppose I did, yes.” She saw Gerard’s look, and shrugged. “I was very angry. And
I
know
Merlin; I know how his mind works, so I had an advantage—besides, he wasn’t expecting me to do it.”

“And now?”

“I’m still angry.”

“At Merlin.” He hoped. He didn’t think he had done anything for her to be angry about. He was occasionally stupid, but he’d never tried to manipulate or force anyone into doing something against their will.

“Yes, mostly. At everyone, but especially Merlin, for being such a hypocrite. Ger, I don’t believe that Morgain was lying. I think she was truly scared. And anything that scares her…”

“Scares me, too,” Gerard admitted. It was the truth.

“I’m going,” she said without further comment.

“Obviously,” Gerard said dryly, and placed his own bag down on the ground next to hers. He sat down beside her. “We can’t take the horses.” They didn’t own the horses they had been riding; they were loans from Arthur’s stable. Going without permission for an emergency, they could justify borrowing the beasts. Leaving against explicit orders…that would be theft. There was a moral line he was very
clear about not crossing.

“I know,” Ailis said. “I think I can work something once we’re outside of camp. But I won’t know until I try it.”

She hesitated, then added, “I’m stronger than I was before. Calling Merlin…I
pulled
him from the sky, Gerard. Even knowing him, I shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“You think it’s Morgain?”

“Actually, I think it’s Newt’s salamander.”

Gerard laughed. Then he realized that she
wasn’t
laughing. She wasn’t even smiling.

“The salamander?”

“It climbed into a fire and wasn’t consumed. It was attracted to my magic. Clearly it’s magical, somehow.”

“But it prefers Newt, not you.” The moment he said it, Gerard realized his mistake in pointing that out. But she only sighed.

“Yes, I had noticed that. And yes,” she said with reluctance, “I am…”

“Jealous?”

“Jealous,” she admitted. “A little. Mostly, I just don’t understand it. Newt
hates
magic. He doesn’t trust it. But…”

She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment. Gerard felt an absurd sense of loss. He grew nostalgic for the days of their youth.

“Go talk to him,” he said finally. “Maybe…maybe he’s been feeding it tidbits, or something. Or maybe salamanders notoriously like the stink of horseflesh on humans.”

That got a faint laugh out of her. “We
all
stink of horse at the end of the day, Gerard. Except those who smell worse.”

“Talk to him.”

“And say what? Newt, I know you hate magic, but that pet you’re so fond of? It’s magic, completely magic. In fact, it might even be made of magic.”

“He liked the griffin,” Gerard offered, referring to the great beast they encountered at Morgain’s keep, a beast that had kept Ailis company while she was held hostage there.

Ailis made a small, mysterious smile, but merely said, “Sir Tawny wasn’t a pet. Not
his
pet, anyway.” She clarified. “Newt wasn’t carrying him around with him.” She shrugged, throwing the question off. “I’ll worry about it when we get back. Are you ready to go?”

“Ready as I can be, walking into a probable trap
without Merlin’s protection or the king’s blessing or any backup save ourselves…” Gerard got to his feet, picked up his pack, and offered Ailis a hand as she stood up as well. “You’re the one with the map. Where are we going? And how are we getting there?”

Suddenly Newt was standing behind them, his pack on his back and the salamander’s head sticking out from inside. If he had overheard any of their conversation, his face didn’t show it.

“What, you thought I wasn’t coming?” he asked, seeing their astonished expressions. “We’ve always been in this together.”

Ailis smiled and handed Newt the map, and walked off, trusting them to follow her. He unrolled it and scanned the markings quickly.

“That’s…”

“Uh-huh,” Ailis said.

Newt handed the map to Gerard, and hurried to catch up with the serving girl.

“Do you know how long it will take us to get there?”

Gerard looked at the map, and muttered a curse. The area marked, their destination, was a familiar one. A cave in the far northern highlands; the cave
where they had found one of the pieces of the talisman that had broken Morgain’s sleep-spell.

That cave was home to the dragon Gerard had promised to return and fight, on the day he was made a knight.

“How are we going to get there?” Gerard asked, his voice rising in dismay. At least it didn’t crack like the first time they had encountered the dragon, and his voice had still been changing.

“Maybe we won’t even see the dragon. Maybe whatever we’re looking for is outside the cave.” And maybe this was all a cruel joke on Morgain’s part, sending them there. He wouldn’t put that past her at all.

“It’s going to take us forever to get there,” Newt said, echoing his thoughts.

“Don’t you two trust me?” Ailis asked, waving in passing to one of the knights standing on the perimeter of the camp, as though the three of them were simply out for an evening’s walk. Hopefully the fact that they were not leading horses would cause the guards to overlook their saddlebags.

“I hate it when someone asks me that,” Newt said to Gerard. “Don’t you?”

“We’re not walking,” Gerard guessed. “Ailis…”

His half-formed suspicion about the cause of Ailis’s earlier smile was correct. There, crouched in the shadows cast by the afternoon sun, his stunning golden feathers glinting in the light, was Sir Tawny, the griffin Ailis had befriended during her stay in Morgain’s keep.

“Morgain’s sending us to do her business,” Ailis said. “She won’t mind if we borrow him for a little while.”

“We’re going to…ride that?” Newt looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or excited.

“Unless you want him to carry you in his claws all the way.”

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Riding will be…fine.”

Ailis laughed at him, going forward to greet the griffin. The great beast’s head, shaped like an eagle’s but as large as a draft horse’s, ducked to meet her, allowing her access to the feathers tufted over its ears, keeping the fiercer curved beak from her soft flesh.

“We’re going to ride
that
…” Newt’s tone had gone from disbelief to awe. There was a makeshift rope harness attached to the creature’s catlike body, with knotted loops where feet and hands could be inserted for gripping, but otherwise there was no
saddle, no reins, no way to stay on or control the winged beast.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Gerard said.

 

As it turned out, Gerard was fine, straddling Sir Tawny’s neck, staring down at the villages they flew over, trying to estimate the size of each one by how many rooftops he could count, while Ailis clung to the other side of the griffin and whispered in his ear, encouraging him to fly just a little longer, just a little farther, there was a good boy.

BOOK: The Shadow Companion
7.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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