Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) Page 3

  Gently, he disengaged my hands from around his legs and dropped down onto his knees in front of me. Holding my hands between his, he said, “Let us pray for God’s mercy, child. Let us pray for your safety.”

  I bowed my head and prayed with all my might. We sat, each lost in our own prayers, until the old priest began to recite the Lord’s Prayer. His deep somber voice and the familiar sounds were soothing, even though I couldn’t understand the Latin words.

  “Amen,” I repeated after him. I was shocked to see Father’s eyes wet with tears.

 

  “Scai. Scai, wake up, my dear.” The voice nagged at me. My shoulder was gently being shaken. “Scai, now! You need to be gone.” The words were spoken in such a terrified whisper, I dragged my eyelids open.

  Father Llewellyn was kneeling next to me on the floor. My bed had still been damp the previous evening, so I’d slept on the floor where it was dry.

  Worry creased the old priest’s forehead. He turned and looked over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to come through my bedroom door.

  “What is it, Father?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

  “You must go. Now. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Who will?”

  “The townspeople. Margaret, Dafydd, even old Tomos. I think they must have been up all night. They’ve built a bonfire in the middle of the square.”

  “For me?” The words were little more than a squeak—I had no voice, no breath. Sudden terror had knocked it clear of my lungs.

  Father nodded, his face a terrifying blank mask.

  I was up in a moment, pulling clothing out of my wardrobe with only one thought in mind—run! Father handed me a bag.

  “There’s bread, cheese, and a skin of water in this.”

  I shoved a shift, a dress, and my shawl on the top and then tossed another dress on over my head. Father laced me up faster than I could have done with my trembling fingers.

  “Are you packed and ready?” I asked, as he worked.

  He paused, looking at me with some confusion in his eyes. “I’m not going with you. You’ll have to go on your own, I’m afraid.”

  “But I can’t leave you here. What if they turn on you?” I asked.

  He just gave me a little smile. “They won’t. I’m a man of God. Besides, I’m old. I would only slow you down.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I prayed he was right. With a breath, I had an idea. “I’ll go to England. Perhaps I can find my parents.”

  A smile lit up Father Llewellyn’s face. “Yes! Brilliant. That is what I will tell them when they come looking for you.”

  I nodded, knowing this was right. “And it is what I will do.”

 

  The sun still hadn’t risen when I slipped into the blacksmith’s shop to wake Aron. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

  He protested my calls of his name in his sleep and tried to bat me away with a wave of his hand, burrowing deeper into the straw that made up his bed in one corner of the shed.

  “Aron. Aron,” I whispered.

  With a start he was up, nearly hitting my head with his own as he bolted upright. I backed up. “I’m leaving. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  He blinked uncomprehendingly at me for a minute then gasped, as if he remembered what was going on. “What? Where?”

  I tried not to laugh at his momentary confusion, while I was sure that on the inside my heart was breaking. I’d never had to do something so difficult as say goodbye to the two people I loved the most.

  Father Llewellyn had seen me off, crying so hard that I hoped never to see a man weep as he had. And now, it was I who was about to embarrass myself with my tears. I blinked them away and forced myself to stay positive. This was a wonderful opportunity.

  “I’m going to England. We’ve always known this day would come.” I gave a little shrug and tried for a smile. “I had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon, but the townspeople have built a bonfire for me… this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for to go and try to find my family.”

  Aron’s eyes widened in shock before he shook his head in wonder. “How do you always turn everything around to see the positive? You’re amazing, Scai!”

  I swallowed at the lump in my throat and forced out a little laugh.

  But Aron turned serious. He reached out and grasped my arm as if he wasn’t going to let me go. “Are you going to be all right? England is very far away.”

  I put my hand over his. “I know. But what choice do I have?”

  He couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.

  I moved my hand to his cheek, rough with beard. I did my best to put a reassuring smile on my face. It might have been a feeble attempt, but at least my tears were staying hidden within my heart.

  Aron sighed. “There are thieves, Scai. In the forest. I’ve heard tales of them. They’re ruthless and don’t think twice about killing those who trespass through their territory. Perhaps I should come with you.”

  I had to keep myself from laughing. How very typical of Aron to want to protect me. “No. You are needed here. There is no other blacksmith now that Hugh has died. And besides, I’ll be fine.” I gave his shoulder a loving squeeze. “I’ll be as careful as I can and avoid anyone who doesn’t seem to be friendly.”

  Aron didn’t seem to be entirely satisfied with this but accepted it as truly the only option. “At least you can use your mind–reading skills to tell if someone means you harm.”

  Fear clogged my throat for a moment at the mention of my “magic.” I didn’t want to think about that. I still wasn’t ready to accept that I even had this ability. Honestly, I only wanted to put it all behind me.

  “Don’t talk about my… my skills. Don’t even think about them. They’re not real. I don’t… I’m leaving because I want to find my family. That and because I don’t really belong here in Tallent. I never have. And it’s long past time that I left.”

  Aron sighed. “It is true that people have never truly accepted you, but…”

  “I’ll never forget you, Aron. I… I love you,” I said, emotion rushing out of me when my tears could not. I threw my arms around my dearest friend and held on as tightly as I could. Before I was no longer able to contain myself, I got up and ran out.

 

  Like a winter storm, my heart heavy but my feet flurrying over the ground, I slipped around the outside edge of the village in silence. There was no need to be so upset, I chided myself. I was going to find my real family—I should be happy and excited.

  Instead, I was terrified. I was leaving the only home I’d ever known. My friends, my family—well, my one friend and Father Llewellyn, but they were all I had. My footsteps slowed and very nearly stopped altogether, fear for Father Llewellyn blinding me.

  Why in the world was I doing this? I started to turn around but then remembered the alternative. I could go and face unknown dangers—or stay and be burnt at the stake as a witch.

  My feet started once again to move forward, this time more decisively. But as I stepped out from the last row of barley into the yawning, empty space between Dafydd’s farm and the forest, I stopped short. There, standing in the bright morning sunlight, were three large ravens—their sharp black eyes were staring right at me.

  One of them hopped forward to get a better look, cocking its head. I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t. I knew the meaning of this. Ravens were drawn to magic like a moth to a flame.

  They were there for me.

  They must have sensed my fear. One jumped into the air flying straight for me. I backed up as quickly as I could without taking my eyes off the huge bird.

  With a beautiful, terrifying call, a white hawk appeared from nowhere, plucking at the raven with its sharp talons. The black bird was knocked off course, landing hard on the ground not ten feet from me.

  Within moments the other two ravens attacked the hawk.

  “No!” I almost screamed. I didn’t know why the hawk had sa
ved me, but I couldn’t stand for the poor thing to be hurt on my account. I stood there, watching the birds fight—two, and then three on one.

  It was a flurry of black and white feathers, sharp beaks jabbing at each other and the hawk’s razor–like talons slashing viciously at the ravens. Never had I seen such a fight. I started to step forward, trying to figure out if there was any way to help the hawk, but I had nothing to use as a weapon, and even if I did, the four birds were too close to each other. I wouldn’t want to risk hurting the hawk. I could do nothing but watch.

  Even three against one, the fight was over much faster than I expected. All three ravens, as if on cue, took off into the air, beating a hasty retreat from the superior strength of the hawk. That left me and the hawk both looking up, watching the black birds disappear into the clear, morning sky.

  I felt the hawk’s eyes on me before I lowered my own to it. It just stood there, staring at me. Briefly, I wondered if it was contemplating attacking me, but there was no malevolence coming from it.

  One small movement from the bird confirmed my suspicions. The hawk bowed its head, acknowledging me. A whoosh of relief escaped from my lips, and I almost laughed with relief.

  The bird took a few steps backward then turned toward the forest, as if beckoning me on. I complied, walking across the green. As I took my first few hesitant steps into the dusk of the dense wood, the hawk came up from behind me, gracefully flying around a tree, only to come back and circle around me. It soared up and back to circle me once again, as if encouraging me forward, before spiraling up into the treetops to disappear completely.

  I laughed at the bird’s antics then watched with a hollow heart as it disappeared from view. Still, I was left with a warm feeling of welcome. And, oddly enough, a feeling that I had a friend somewhere close by. I wasn’t entirely alone.

  With a brighter step, I headed in the direction the hawk had flown, even though the path had changed to one that was hardly worn at all.

  Trees and bushes encroached upon the road, trying to take it over. The farther I walked, the closer the trees became. It felt as if the branches were reaching out for me. As the forest became even denser, the sky was blotted out by the leaves of the trees. Only here and there was a ray of sun able to slip through from between the leaves.

  I grew cold in the dark of the forest. My footsteps slowed, and I felt as if I were shrinking under the oppressive, towering trees. A heaviness weighed down on me until I could barely keep placing one foot in front of the other.

  And then I stopped. Listening.

  Silence surrounded me like a stifling blanket of cool air. A sudden rustle of leaves made me jump, and a small fox ran across my path. Once again the silence descended on me. All I could do was to look up at the trees that hung over me and try to get a glimpse of the sky where the hawk had flown.

  I took a deep breath and began to walk forward once more. I would see them again. I would. The sky and the hawk were there just on the other side of this forest, I told myself. But fear still tickled at the back of my neck. There were thieves, wild animals, and goodness only knew what else here in the thick of the forest.

  If only I could see the sky.

  As my fears increased, my footsteps began to speed up. I moved faster and faster. I had to get through the wood. I had to escape from these oppressive trees, which were always reaching out, ready to grab me at any moment.

  I had to find the sky.

  I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. There had to be an end to this. There had to be a break in the trees somewhere.

  Chapter Six

  Hiyah!” Galloping hooves raced toward me from behind. “Hiyah!”

  I turned and stood frozen with shock. I knew I should get out of the way. I was about to get run down, but my legs wouldn’t move. My mind refused to believe that what I saw was real.

  A knight in full, gleaming armor was bearing down on me, his horse coming at me at a full gallop.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I couldn’t breathe.

  The knight continued to race toward me, his hand raised above his head clutching an enormous sword. He came closer, faster, raising his sword even higher, ready to strike me down.

  I was dead. There was no point in moving because I was dead.

  I just stood in the middle of the path as my death came closer and closer. At the last second, I closed my eyes and clutched my arms against my body.

  The heat and the smell of horse invaded all of my senses. Galloping hooves came within inches of me. My hair flew in the gust of air. And then he was behind me.

  He had gone straight past!

  I spun around and watched as, with a great war cry, the knight struck his sword into the side of an oak tree. The sword wobbled up and down with the force of the blow as the knight let it go. He continued past until his horse slowed down enough to safely turn about and return.

  Ignoring his sword, the knight rode straight up to me. “You all right? Tell me you aren’t hurt, wot?”

  “What?”

  “What, wot?” replied the knight.

  “I…I’m sorry?” I looked past the knight at the tree where his sword was still waving gently.

  “I’ve just saved your life; have you nothing to say?” the knight said, puffing out his chest.

  “You have?”

  The knight pulled up the visor on his helmet to stare at me.

  Behind the shining metal were pale brown eyes crinkled with the lines of one who had spent a great deal of time smiling.

  “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…I mean, I hadn’t…er, thank you,” I said. Remembering my manners, I dipped into a deep curtsey. “Thank you, good knight, for saving my life.”

  The knight gave me a small bow from atop his horse.

  “Er…” I began, glancing back at the sword. “May I ask exactly what you saved me from?”

  “What?”

  “What was it that you saved me from?”

  “Oh. Er, that, er…” The knight gestured randomly toward the tree. “That, er, oak.”

  “The oak?”

  “Yes. It was reaching out toward you and, er, oh, hobnobbit!”

  A laugh burst out of me, releasing all the fear I’d pent up just a moment ago. For a minute there, I hadn’t been entirely certain that the knight was in his right mind, but clearly even he couldn’t keep up the pretense.

  There had been nothing attacking me.

  He laughed in great guffaws, leaning back so far that for a minute I was afraid he would lose his balance and fall off of his horse.

  The horse sidled a little, making the knight sit up straight again and pull on the reins to control it.

  “Well, now you’ve found me out, wot?”

  “What?”

  “I say, you’ve… oh, never mind.” He turned his horse once again and rode back to the tree. Grasping onto the handle of his sword, he gave a tug. It didn’t budge. He pulled hard, and then again, so hard that his horse began to sidestep away.

  “Fiddlesticks!” He turned back to me and said, “I say, do you think you could give me a hand, wot?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” I said, coming forward. But if this big strong man couldn’t pull the sword out, I had no idea what I could do. I reached up and tried tugging at the handle, as the knight had done, but the sword was firmly lodged in the tree.

  “No, I didn’t mean like that!” The knight laughed. “Of course you can’t pull it out like that. Use your mind, girl, use your mind.”

  I let go of the sword and looked up at the knight. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.” But a shiver of apprehension ran over my skin like a cool breeze on a hot summer night.

  The knight gestured vaguely. “Oh, I say, you know what I mean. Move it with your mind.”

  “How could I possibly do that?” It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. I gave a deliberate laugh, but the knight didn’t laugh with me. He wasn’t joking.

  “You know…” The man dismounted
and pulled off his helmet to reveal a shock of silver–white hair above a clean–shaven, grandfatherly face. He put his helmet down on the ground, took a step away from me and the horse, and then just stood staring at me.

  For a moment I didn’t know what he was doing, but then I noticed that his belt was unbuckling itself. Gently, it came off of his body and lay down on the ground. The tunic he wore over his armor began to lift itself off his body.

  I was vaguely aware of my mouth dropping open. I snapped it shut again.

  Before the tunic was fully off the man, however, it began to put itself back on again. The knight smiled at me. “That’s how.”

  “But… how did you do that?” My voice was nothing but an awed whisper, but I didn’t care. What I’d just seen was… was… well, magic.

  He laughed. “I used my mind. I just willed my sword belt to come off and then my tunic, wot?” His sword belt was still rebuckling itself around his waist as he moved forward again.

  I took a step backward, keeping some distance between us. It wasn’t that I was scared, precisely. I didn’t know what I was beyond confused and perhaps a bit nervous. My skin seemed to be prickling, but I didn’t know why.

  He didn’t seem to notice or mind. He just pointed at his sword and said, “Now, you try.”

  “I can’t…” It was ridiculous.

  “Have you tried, then?”

  “Well, no. But…” This was more than silly.

  “Then you don’t know that you can’t, do you? If you try it and fail, then, indeed, you can’t, but if you try and can then you can’t can’t, wot?”

  I had to stop and think about that for a minute, untying his logic, but I thought it made sense. Was it ridiculous? Doubts whispered in my mind. Turning back, I looked up at the sword as it sat lodged firmly in the tree a little higher than eye level.

  Could I possibly move it with my mind just by willing it to move? No! That was impossible. A shiver ran through me just at the thought of being able to do such a thing.

  “No.” I turned away. “I’m very sorry, but…”

  “Scared?”

  “What? I’m not scared! I just can’t, that’s all.” I didn’t even want to think about it any further. The thought alone of doing such a thing was terrifying. The implications!