Children of Avalon Read online

  I got up and pushed open the window shutters. I could hear Sir Dagonet snoring in the next room, sleeping soundly. Finally, thanks to Bridget, he was recovering from that awful illness.

  Watching the sun as it peeked up over the horizon of the neighboring houses, I thought about my parents. Yes, they had given me away. Yes, they had done so for a reason. But I had to know what that was. I had to know why they had gone to so much trouble to get rid of me.

  I opened my hands to the cool of the morning. “No. I have to know. I have to find out. I will go and meet my family today,” I said, as I turned around to face Dylan.

  He dropped his head in defeat for just a moment. Sorrow pooled in his eyes as he looked directly into mine once more. “You will not go to see your family. You will return to Wales, today.”

  His voice was deep and resonant. I could feel the magic in his words. It swirled around me, trying to enter into my mind. Even before the words were out of his mouth, I was concentrating on blocking them out. His words would not flood my mind. They would not!

  I took a few steps back, away from Dylan and his mental assault. Although I glared at him, I couldn’t stop the smile of triumph that rose to my lips.

  I had done it! I had blocked his magic.

  Dylan realized this in an instant and came toward me.

  I bolted. I didn’t know what he was thinking of doing, but I didn’t wait a moment to find out. Every instinct told me to run—and so I did.

  I ran out of the door of my room and turned down the hallway.

  No! I had turned the wrong way! Ahead was the dead end. The stairs were in the other direction and Dylan was practically on my heels.

  I noticed light coming from an open door at the end of the hallway. The last room was open, unoccupied.

  I scooted into the room and was about to turn and close the door, but Dylan was too fast. He was right there, behind me.

  “How did you do that?” he demanded. “How did you block my suggestion?”

  “I don’t know, but it worked. I told you once before, Dylan, you may not put your commands into my mind. I will not stand for it.”

  Dylan stopped as well. A small smile grew on his face. He knew as well as I did that I was trapped. I didn’t like the look in his eyes. He looked...half–crazed and angry. “Go back to Wales.” He began advancing.

  “No.” I backed away from him.

  Making a lunge for me, Dylan sprang forward. I dodged around him and started to run back out the door, but before I could even get through it, he grabbed hold of my hair.

  A scream of pain escaped from me as he pulled me to a sudden halt. “No!”

  I rounded on him, my fist smashing into his ear. Immediately, he let go of me, recoiling in pain.

  I was out of the door and running back down the hall as fast as I could go. My only hope was that Sir Dagonet would stop Dylan. I ran at full speed into his room. “Sir Dagonet!” I screamed as I threw open the door.

  “Eh, wot, wot?” the old man sat up in his bed.

  But a glance behind me showed Dylan right on my heels.

  There was nothing else for it. I didn’t even pause. I kept running straight past Sir Dagonet’s bed and threw myself out of the second story window, praying as I did so.

  Chapter Nineteen

  With two strong flaps of my wings, I shot up into the early morning sky. Circling around to take a look behind me. Dylan was glaring at me out of the window, his hands gripping the window ledge.

  “You shall never get it, Scai. Merlin’s chalice is mine! It was meant for me, and I shall be the one who finds it. I, alone, shall be the one who wields it.” The words poured into my mind like acid—hot, burning, and angry.

  I didn’t know what he meant, but I didn’t have time to figure it out. From above me there came terrifying screeches, and they were coming closer, fast.

  The ravens looked identical to the ones I had seen just before leaving Tallent, but I didn’t have time to look closely before they started attacking me.

  Two of the birds came at me fast. I tried to fly away, but a third was coming at me from the other direction.

  I faltered, not knowing which way to turn, and was hit hard by the beaks of two of the ravens. I closed my eyes as searing pain shot through me. When I opened them again the ground was coming toward me fast.

  “Fly! Flap your wings, dammit!” Dylan’s voice penetrated the fog of terror and pain.

  “Dylan!” I wanted to scream, but all that came out of my beak was a screech. I didn’t know if I would get any help from him, in any case. No, I was all alone in this.

  I lifted my head and pumped down as hard as I could, trying to ignore the pain in order to save my life. The ground began to retreat again, but the birds didn’t.

  Before I had even gained a proper altitude, I was buffeted by the ravens once more. I felt like a ball being thrown back and forth between a group of children. Again and again, the birds flew at me, stabbing at me with their sharp beaks. I barely had time to flap my wings to stay up in the air before another bird would attack, its beak jabbing painfully into me.

  I made another attempt to fly away from the attack, but my wings were getting heavier by the minute. I was too tired, too battered, and too weak to put much effort into it. It was all I could do to stay aloft, and even that was becoming almost too much for me.

  Something else flew by, nearly hitting me. Only after it had passed did I realize that it was a rock. I looked down and saw Dylan standing in the street, another rock in his hand, ready to be thrown. I didn’t know if he was aiming for me or for my assailants, but right now I was too tired to even care. I had to get away.

  Another bird slammed into me, knocking me sideways.

  That was it. I was going to fall. The pain was too much. I was dizzy and sick. Once more I tried to find a space to fly through the circling birds so that I could at least land safely, but once again the ravens were coming straight at me.

  I was just closing my eyes, preparing for the pain of their attack, when I saw a flash of white and heard one of the ravens squawk in surprise.

  The hawk! The white hawk that had frightened away the ravens in Tallent—it was here! I recognized it at once. It flew up and then banked, descending fast. Its sharp claws grabbed hold of an attacking raven from above and behind. The bird was powerless to stop the attack. With speed and agility, the hawk smashed the raven against the ground.

  An idea struck me. I took advantage of the brief moment when the other two ravens were stunned into immobility as their companion was taken away. It couldn’t hurt to try. With a last burst of energy, I flapped my tired wings hard to get above the other two birds. They were still staring at their, now immobile, companion.

  I didn’t know what kind of bird I was, but at least I had the advantage of surprise when I mimicked the hawk’s movements. Swooping down on one of the ravens, I reached out with my talons and grabbed the bird. It thrashed and struggled in my claws. I held on as tightly as I could, but my strength just wasn’t there. As it pulled away, I heard it caw again. I looked down to see that Dylan had caught the bird as it had escaped from me. I watched in a mixture of horror and relief as he wrung its neck.

  The hawk flew past me, also watching Dylan, with the third raven tightly clasped in its talons. As Dylan dropped the dead bird, the hawk deposited the last one into his hands.

  I circled once more, my wings aching with fatigue and pain from the attack. I wanted to say my thanks to the hawk, if I could. But as soon as the hawk had left the third raven with Dylan, it didn’t stay around for thanks but darted off. It flew away with a speed I couldn’t match in my pain and exhaustion.

  It took the last vestiges of energy I had, but I managed to fly the half mile east to the bright red roof Bridget had told me to look for. In through the open window, I landed on my own two feet, just as my legs collapsed under me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Strong arms and warm bodies surrounded me.

  “Here, I’ve got h
er, James,” a voice said very close to my ear. I was being lifted and carried away.

  When I next opened my eyes, Bridget was sitting beside me, pressing a cool cloth to a huge gash in my side. Pain shot in every direction.

  Concern faded from her eyes as I tried to give her a smile. “Welcome, sister. That was some entrance you made,” she said, laughing.

  I tried to sit up, but Bridget put a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Wait just a little while longer. Your cuts are almost healed. Just a touch more here and there and you’ll be sore but whole again.”

  With a sigh of relief, I lay back down. I was in a simple whitewashed room, barely larger than a cupboard. The only furniture was a beautiful wood and brass chest and the bed in which I lay.

  Bridget noticed me looking around and gave me a little smile. “This is my room. Being the only girl, I get to have my own.” She laid her hands on my side where she had just applied the cloth. There was a slight burning sensation, as if someone had touched me with the flame of a candle, but then it was gone. I looked down and saw a trickle of blood, but the cut had disappeared. It was incredible. What a gift.

  “There, I think that is the last of them. How do you feel?”

  My smile, this time, was true. “Much better, thanks to you.”

  “Good. Do you want to see if you can sit up now?”

  I nodded and, with Bridget’s help, managed to sit up with my feet on the floor. My head was light and my stomach rebellious.

  “Just give yourself a moment,” Bridget cautioned.

  As I sat there waiting for my head and stomach to steady themselves, Bridget got up and rummaged in her trunk. She pulled out a pale blue dress of fine wool, much finer than anything I had ever owned. And yet, I noticed for the first time, it was no finer than what Bridget was wearing.

  “It’ll be short for you, but it’ll do for now. Yours, I’m afraid, was in tatters.”

  She helped me to dress and then gave me an arm to lean on. We went out to a large and airy kitchen where Bridget’s brothers were all seated around a scoured wooden table.

  They all rose upon our entrance.

  “Scai, I’d like you to meet our brothers,” Bridget said, beaming at the men. “Thomas is the eldest,” she said, indicating the first man. He was tall with light brown hair and soft, smiling blue eyes. “Next to him is Piers. He and Peter,” she indicated another man, who looked identical to Piers but sat on the opposite side of the table, “are twins. Next to Piers is James, and this”—she indicated the youngest man, who seemed to be the closest in age to me—“is Matthias.” Bridget moved to the large fireplace and put her arm around the woman standing in front of it, whom I hadn’t even noticed until now. “And this beautiful creature is Joan, Thomas’s wife.”

  Joan came forward and held out her hands to me. “Welcome. Please come and sit down.” She pulled out the chair next to Mathias, which I sank into gratefully. Looking at the faces all around the table, I just couldn’t believe that these people were my family. My brothers and sister! I shook my head in wonder. And they were smiling at me, welcoming me. I wasn’t quite sure how this could be. I had been dreaming of this day my whole life, and now that it was here...it was baffling.

  “Thank you.” I paused to swallow my emotions, which were tightening within my throat. “Thank you so much for...”

  “Please, Scai, you’re our sister. You don’t need to thank us for anything,” Thomas said, his voice filled with gentle kindness.

  I just shook my head, now completely overcome. They were accepting me. Without a question or concern. Even after I had barged into their home, uninvited.

  “But I didn’t even knock,” I whispered, horrified at my own lack of manners.

  A couple of them laughed.

  “I presume you don’t normally fly into people’s homes,” Thomas said, trying to hold back his own laughter.

  “No!”

  “Pretty incredible that you can turn into a bird,” Matthias said with unabashed awe.

  I wiped away the tears threatening to spill from my eyes and laughed, amazed that he—that they all—could accept me and my odd abilities so easily. I didn’t know what to think. No one had ever been so quick to accept me and my quirks. Even Aron had taken a moment to digest the thought that I might be a witch, and Father Llewellyn had probably taken years before he accepted it—and they had known and loved me my whole life.

  “It’s all right, truly,” Piers said. He reached over and patted my hands as they rested on the table.

  I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to be happy or...well, I should be happy, I knew I should, but I was still too confused.

  “Are you feeling better now that Bridget has had at you?” the other twin asked.

  I gave a little laugh and took stock of my aches and pains. “I’m still feeling very sore and tired, but yes, thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?” Joan asked, moving to a huge pot that hung over the fire.

  And as soon as she said it, I recognized the churning feeling in my stomach as just that, hunger. “Oh, yes. Very.”

  Matthias turned to the others and said, “Yep, she’s our sister all right.”

  The men all laughed.

  But I started to choke up again at being anyone’s sister. I squashed down my emotions, not wanting to embarrass myself. But then something odd occurred to me. “I do feel comfortable with you all, as if you really were my family,” I said, voicing my thoughts... and then my fears. “But do we know for certain?”

  “Well, tell us your story, and we’ll see if it matches with ours,” Thomas said, giving me an encouraging smile.

  So I recounted my story once more. With each piece of it, the men nodded their heads.

  “I remember when our parents left with the baby,” Peter said.

  “I remember how Mama cried for days after she was born,” Piers added.

  I felt hollow, and it wasn’t hunger, for Joan had given me a large piece of bread and a bowl of broth that I had begun to eat greedily. I swallowed, the food in my mouth turning dry as sawdust. “Why did she cry? Why did she give me away? Is she here?”

  “She and our father passed away some time ago,” James answered, his deep, quiet voice reflecting the sadness I could see in the eyes of the others.

  “Our mother didn’t just give you away, Scai,” Thomas said after a moment. “She and our father traveled for nearly a month through Wales searching for a good home for you.”

  “But why?”

  “You were a girl,” Matthias said with a shrug.

  “No, that’s not it. That’s not why,” Thomas corrected, giving his brother a scowl.

  I turned back to... to my eldest brother—chills touching my skin at just the idea—who sat thinking for a moment. “I was only nine at the time, but Papa explained it to me, or at least some of it. Although I’m certain he simplified it.” He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. “They knew that the sixth child in our family would be a girl. She would do great things, but then...” he paused. Looking away from me, he shook his head, not saying any more.

  “But then, what?” I asked.

  “Yes, come on, Thomas, you must tell us the rest,” Bridget said, leaning forward toward her brother.

  He looked around the table uncomfortably, and then lowered his eyes and his voice so that he spoke only to the table. “Papa said she would do great things, but that she would kill herself to save others.” He lifted his eyes to mine. They were full of sorrow and perhaps a little fear. “I’m sorry, Scai. But Papa said he and my mother would rather give you away and have you live a quiet life where you didn’t have an opportunity to do great things than have you die in such a way.”

  There was silence in the room as we all digested this.

  Bridget was the first to speak. “It must have been a very difficult decision for them.”

  “Yes! Absolutely.” All of the men around the table immediately spoke up, agreeing with her.

 
; I was warmed by their kindness, even as I was chilled with the revelation of my fate.

  “It’s true, Scai,” Thomas said. “As I told you, our mother cried for days just at the idea of having to give you up. I heard her and Papa discussing it, arguing about it. They didn’t want to do it, but they also couldn’t allow their child to die young—or by her own hand.”

  “But were they told I would die young, or just that I would die—what was it? For others?” I asked.

  “I don’t know for certain, but I know they believed you would die young and they didn’t want that, naturally,” Thomas answered.

  “So they gave me away.”

  “I’m certain they did so only after ensuring that you would be well cared for,” Piers put in.

  “You were, weren’t you?” Peter asked.

  “Yes. I was. I was loved and cared for by a very good man. A priest named Father Llewellyn.” I paused to blink the tears out of my eyes as I remembered my dear, sweet guardian. I sent up a silent prayer that he was all right.

  “That’s very good to hear. But now I want to know who attacked you on your way here,” Thomas said, leaning toward me. He tipped his chin down and looked directly at me as if he would not accept anything less than the entire truth. It was more than a little intimidating. I imagined he had to have learned to be so with so many brothers to care for.

  I could only shake my head, however. “I don’t know who was responsible. All I know is that three ravens attacked me in the air. A hawk I’ve seen before, saved me.”

  “Do you change into a bird often?” Matthias asked.

  “No. I’m not even certain how I did that. I’ve only done it once before.”

  They all sat looking at me, clearly expecting me to go on.

  I weighed my words carefully, considering how much I should reveal to my new family.

  What a wonderful thought. This was my family. The thought of it threw me off guard again, but I collected myself, knowing they were waiting.

  According to Bridget, they were all Vallen. So maybe they knew something about this chalice Dylan had spoken of. Maybe...it was worth a try.