Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) (7 page)

My happiness ripped away as I was engulfed. I cried out but choked on ice–cold water.

I awoke from my dream, coughing and drowning in truth. Tumbling and turning, I flailed my legs and arms, frantically trying to find air. My feet struck something hard—the rocky river bottom. I pushed off with all my might, managing for a moment to get my head above the raging current.

I gasped in a single breath, but didn’t have time for another before liquid hands pulled me down once more. The weight of the water sat on my chest, pressing me to the bottom. I tried to move, but it was too much. The water held me fast against the floor of the river.

No, I would not submit!

I fought against the river once more, clawing my way up, twisting and turning to escape. I reached the surface and stole another quick, gasping breath. I had to find a way out, something to grab on to. A rock, a branch, there had to be something. I tried to look around, but the water’s strong grip pulled me under again, pressing me down, this time pulling me along as it rushed downstream. I would surely drown if I didn’t do something fast. Blackness closed in on me as I ran out of air again. For a moment I shut my eyes and stopped struggling.

No, I would not give up.
Out
. I had to escape from the icy fingers of this water. When my feet touched the bottom, I pushed off again. Rejecting the smothering water, I reached out for the sky with all my might. With all my heart. With all my will.

Once more, I pushed the water down with my arms, reaching up again. I pushed down and then reached up. Again and again, until it was no longer my own arms I saw in front of me but…wings?

I had wings!

And I was no longer in the water. I turned my head to one side and looked down. The raging river was far below me. I was high in the sky. But the river seemed to be growing bigger, coming closer. I turned my head back up into the air and pumped down once again with my wings. Again, I rose up into the air. I was flying!

I laughed at the wind in my face. Never had I been so light, so free. The air fluttered through my feathers as I stretched out my wings to glide along on the current.

But the river caught my eye once more. Something dark fought against the water. Sir Dagonet! Fear clogged my throat.

I banked my wings and headed straight toward the old man. He was thrashing around in the water, trying to keep his head above the current, just as I had been doing only moments ago. But how could I get him out?

In the dim light of the early morning, I spied a tree just ahead of me that had fallen into the river. Its roots were still firmly attached to the bank while its trunk lay sprawled halfway across the water.

With two strong pumps of my wings, I sped toward it, landing with a bump on my own feet. Straddling the tree trunk and tightening my legs around it with all of my strength, I desperately reached out my arm into the river.

“Sir Dagonet! Sir Dagonet, grab hold of my hand,” I called to the knight, who was approaching in the rush of the water.

He surfaced for a moment. I called to him again, gripping the tree even harder with my legs. Just as the man was about to be swept past, I reached out and grabbed his floundering arm. My own arms felt as if they were about to be torn right out of my body, but I held on with all of my strength.

The excitement of flying, which had allowed me to forget my exhaustion, was gone, leaving only leaden limbs in its place. There was no way I was going to manage to save Sir Dagonet by myself. I searched the bank for any sign of Dylan, but he was nowhere to be seen. We must have left him back where we’d fallen into the river, unless he had already succumbed to the pull of the watery hands.

No, there was no one but myself—and my magic!

With my grip on Sir Dagonet’s hand as tight as I could make it, I stared intently at Sir Dagonet and concentrated. Taking a deep breath, I imagined him coming closer to the tree on which I was perched. Closer. Closer.

My arms were ready to fall right off. My hands were losing their grip. I was about to drop from weariness when the weight stopped pulling at me. I blinked a few times. Sir Dagonet was reaching out to grab onto the trunk. His hand slipped once but then found purchase. With a great heave, he pulled himself out of the water.

I grabbed onto his tunic to guide him and to make sure he didn’t slip back into the churning river.

He lay panting on his stomach, his legs still dangling into the water. I rested my head on his heaving back.

Slowly the two of us managed to catch our breath, but I didn’t think I would ever be able to move again. I was so tired.

As soon as he was able, Sir Dagonet pulled himself the rest of the way out of the water then dragged himself, and me, to the shore.

Dylan ran up to us just as we stepped foot onto dry land. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, thanks to Scai,” Sir Dagonet said, still out of breath.

“I…I couldn’t believe it. Scai, you turned into a bird and flew straight out of the water,” Dylan said. His face was pale, but filled with awe.

My mind was little more than mush from my exhaustion. “I…I was a bird?” I whispered, my teeth beginning to chatter in the cold air of the autumn morning. But even as I said it, I knew that he was right. I had felt myself fly. I had flapped my wings and glided above the surface of the water. It had been incredible!

Even the shivering Sir Dagonet was looking at me now in amazement. He, who was used to magic, looked at me as if I had done something truly extraordinary. I wished I had the energy to ask him why he was looking that way, but I was too far beyond tired. My legs gave out and I sank to the ground, unable to even stand any longer.

“I don’t know how I did it. I just…” I paused. “I just needed to get out of the water, and so I did,” I explained to the two men with a shrug of my shoulders, even as I curled my knees up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

“Well, let’s get warm first. Then you can see if you can do it again, wot?” Sir Dagonet gave an encouraging smile.

“I don’t know that I can,” I said, reluctantly allowing Dylan to pull me to my feet. I could barely move, but if I didn’t I would surely die of cold sitting there on the riverbank. Tears threatened me as I realized just how far I was going to have to walk to reach our campfire and my dry clothes.

Now would be an excellent time to turn back into a bird so that I could fly back to the fire, but there wasn’t an ounce of energy left in me. I could hardly walk.

Sir Dagonet, too, was pale with exhaustion, but he turned and put his arm around me and supported me all the way back. Resting my head against his shoulder, I forced myself to place one foot in front of the other. Oddly enough, Dylan looked ready to drop as well—even though he didn’t have a drop of water on him.

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“I don’t understand how we ended up in the river,” I said, dropping to the ground after coming out of the woods where I’d changed into dry clothing. I was still tired. All of my muscles ached, protesting every move I made, but at least my initial exhaustion was beginning to wear off.

“Nor do I. Quite odd, wot? I woke up in the water.”

“So did I.” I looked over at Dylan, who was seeing to his horse. “And yet Dylan wasn’t pulled in at all.”

“He was on the far side of the fire, away from the water, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet explained.

I nodded, remembering that that had been the case. Lucky.

Dylan rejoined us. Was it odd that he didn’t make eye contact with either me or Sir Dagonet? If only he would look at me I would…ah, no. I remembered that I couldn’t hear Dylan’s thoughts. If only I knew what he was thinking…

Sir Dagonet was nibbling at a piece of bread. It was a good idea. I was famished. I reached into my bag for the bread I’d brought with me. “I’m still quite tired from the water and, I suppose, from flying.”

Sir Dagonet nodded, a little twinkle lighting up his eyes. “Not surprising. That was a lot of magic you did, wot?”

I stopped as the realization of what I’d done hit me. Whenever I had performed magic it had been intentional, conscious. How had this suddenly become something I just did naturally? It had felt good. Normal. I couldn’t help shaking my head in astonishment.

“Doing magic makes you tired?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. Weren’t you tired after removing my sword from the tree?”

“Yes, I was.”

Sir Dagonet nodded. “Using magic is like using your muscles. It takes strength and energy, but the more you do it, the easier it becomes.” He paused to take a drink from his water skin. “I can take off and put on my armor without a thought because I do it every day, but ask me to move something larger or heavier and it would take a great deal out of me, don’t you know.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. It doesn’t take any energy for me to hear what other people are thinking because I do it all the time, but, as you say, I was very tired after moving the sword, and I’m still exhausted from turning into a bird.”

“What do you mean, ‘hear’ what other people are thinking?” Dylan asked, his eyes widening a little.

I gave a guilty little shrug. “When I look into someone’s eyes, I…I just know what they are thinking at that moment—except for you. I tried to hear your thoughts yesterday but couldn’t for some reason,” I admitted rather sheepishly. “Normally I know right away what someone is thinking when I look at them, but from you there was absolute silence.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “I keep my mind closed to others. You should, too, if you can.”

“You keep your mind closed?” I asked, amazed that such a thing was possible.

“That’s handy! How did you learn to do such a thing?” Sir Dagonet asked, clearly as intrigued, and possibly as suspicious, as I was now.

Why would someone always have such protection, like armor covering their mind, as if they were expecting someone to attack them at any time? It seemed like an unnecessary precaution—unless you had something to hide.

Dylan shrugged. “I just figured it out. My tutor could listen in on the thoughts of others, so I learned to block out her intrusions.”

A laugh burst out of me, dispelling some of the tension. “That would be awkward if you hadn’t done what you were supposed to. She would know right away, wouldn’t she?”

Dylan gave a small smile. “As I say, I learned pretty young to close my mind to others.”

“But you can open your mind if you want to?” I asked.

“Oh, yes.” He looked at me and, without opening his mouth, said silently,
“But I always keep it closed, just as a precaution. You never know when someone might be listening.”

I gasped. “You projected your voice into my mind!” It was incredible. How did he do that?

Dylan gave me a mischievous smile. “You can probably do it, too, if you try.”

A shiver of excitement ran through me. I
could
try it. I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy testing out new magic and trying to find the limits of my abilities.

I was so excited at the prospect of trying out the new magic that I pushed aside my suspicions of Dylan for the moment and reached inside of my own mind. Looking at him, I silently projected the words
“I’m trying. Can you hear me?”
at Dylan.

“Yes, that’s right. It was strong and clear. Normally, I can’t hear what others are thinking, but I could hear you because you put the words into my mind.”

I laughed and clapped my hands. I could feel the effort that it had taken to do that small bit of magic, but it was so little that I could dismiss it easily. If nothing else, I was learning new magic from Dylan. But he was always on his guard… My worries poked at me.

Sir Dagonet heaved himself up off the ground. “We’ve spent the whole morning here. About time we set off, wot?”

Dylan stood up as well, although much more reluctantly.

“I’m still tired,” I admitted, “but not so much that I can’t travel on, especially on horseback.”

“There’s the girl!” Sir Dagonet said with approval. He turned to Dylan, who was gathering up his saddlebag. “And you’re getting some of your energy back, too, Dylan?”

Dylan started and jumped back as if Sir Dagonet had just jabbed a knife at him. “Me? I have no lack of energy.”

“No? You seemed to be quite worn out after our little adventure in the river.” The smile on Sir Dagonet’s face didn’t quite reach his eyes, but I forced myself to stay out of his thoughts. “Maybe it was just the excitement of the moment or the rushing water, wot?”

I glanced over at the river now. It was as calm as it had been the day before. So how was it that it had turned into such a violent, raging maelstrom earlier that morning? It didn’t make any sense.

Dylan turned away to place his saddlebags on his horse’s back, but didn’t answer Sir Dagonet.

Could
Dylan
have had something to do with the river rising? Was that why he was tired, because he’d used a lot of magic churning up the river? Was it even possible that he could have turned such a placid stream into the raging river I had experienced?

I didn’t know enough about magic or the limits of it—but if I could make clouds move, maybe Dylan could affect the movement of the water.

It was rather scary that he could, and would, do something like that—but it wasn’t something I could dismiss, not in light of his already suspicious behavior.

Still, the thought terrified me. If it were true, then Dylan had tried to kill me and Sir Dagonet.

Chapter Ten

N
imuë stared into the water of Avalon. After smelling it again after so many years, she found herself going back to it again and again.

She missed her home.

How ridiculous! She was not a child any longer. Yes, she had spent most of her life on that island, but she had not been back for almost two hundred years—not since she had closed the mists in on it. Not since she had trapped Merlin in that tree.

The world had died a little when Merlin had no longer been a part of it. She had felt it. Everyone, even the lay people, had felt it.

But, still, she did not regret it. She did not regret entombing him, not for an instant. “Merlin had simply outlived his usefulness,” she murmured to herself.