Echoes of Avalon (Tales of Avalon Book 1) (58 page)

“I do not expect a booming voice to answer me from the heavens. I realize your ways are often silent and mysterious. I have faith that you hear me, and I only ask that you give me the strength to do your will. To defeat the enemy, rescue the princess, save the world. If I am wrong in my assumptions, if I am not sincere enough, then do not let Katherina and those at Greensprings be punished for my shortcomings. Spare them, and do with me as you will.”

A tear beaded in the corner of his eye. He heard no booming voice; the lake water did not part before him; no angels broke out in a chorus of song. But he did feel the weight of the world melt away from his shoulders, and a warm feeling fill him from within. A comfort and confidence washed over him like the gentle caress of his mother’s hand. Somehow, he found this phenomenon more extraordinary than all the magic of Avalon.

#

“I really don’t see what the trouble is, Kat, most princesses would dream of having such a proposal made to them,” Loki said.

Katherina looked up sharply. Her face was red and she most definitely was angry, not frightened. “What makes you think that I would appreciate such offer? Especially considering the price I must pay.” She gestured to the mirror, which showed an image of Father Constant’s friendly face
―
frozen solid at Greensprings. The image flickered to an image of the sphere engulfing the last of Aesclinn, then it flickered to another image, and then another.

“Drat!” Loki cursed, walking over to the mirror. He passed his hand over it and it returned to mirror form. “Damn thing seems to have a mind of its own sometimes.”

“How could I possibly share such world with you? Especially as your concubine? How can I ever trust you again? Everything about you has been lie.”

Loki’s face looked hurt. He went to her side and hung there, searching her eyes. “Can’t you look past this?” He gestured to the mirror. “And see my motives for what they are? I want to do this for you, too. I am not without mortal wants and needs. I chose you because I...care for you. I want you. I need someone to share this with.” Katherina was starting to back up, her expression becoming more and more shocked at the prospect of what he was about to say. “Very well, maybe I was too enthusiastic about professing my intentions to you. But can’t you look past that and see that I chose you for something great, to share with me because I care for you, because I lo
―
”

Katherina screamed and covered her ears, pacing back and forth pretending not to hear. She tried to evade his glance, but he stepped in her path every which way. Finally he grabbed her about the wrists. “Listen to me!”

“No! How can you say that? How could you also mistake what we had for love?”

Loki took a step back, pain in his face. “You mean, you never...”

“No, and even if I did, I could not, and would not agree to this...
this
thing you do to Greensprings and Avalon. I would not wed you, I would not rule an ice covered world with you, and I most definitely would not bear your children!” Katherina was almost shrieking.

Loki, the demigod, turned his hunched back to the princess, covered his face with his hands and moaning like a mortal.

“What were you thinking? Was I supposed to be impressed by your power? Was I supposed to come running like a little girl? What makes you—” Loki’s face twisted into a mask of anger that made his previous caricatures pale by comparison. She took a step back, swallowing hard.

Loki approached. “You little, insolent, indignant...” His fists burst into lavender flames. “...and worthless mortal. I shall burn the flesh from your bones and decorate my mantel with your skeleton, I’ll...”

“Loki, dearest, cannot you understand a little jest?” Katherina laughed nervously, smiling. She plucked at her plated hair.

Loki froze in his ranting, his head tilting to one side curiously.

“Really, you have no need of carrying on so to convince me of your powers. I just wanted to test limits of your sense of humor, and patience. Two things you will be needing if you are to rule world...and two things you will be needing if I am to be doing it with you.”

Loki shrank before Katherina. His eyes returned to normal color, the flames extinguished, and his teeth seemed perfectly human. All that was left was his porcelain features, outlined by his glossy black hair and goatee. His mouth was firmly closed, his jaw muscles working beneath the skin. A barely perceptible frown creased his forehead, betraying conflicting emotions surging inside him.

“Kat, you certainly try my patience,” he conceded between clenched teeth.
Katherina sauntered over to Loki and rubbed her hands over his chest. “I thought that is what you like about me most, my spiritedness?”

Loki drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, you are like fire
―
wild and untamed. But necessary for comfort in the chill of the night.”

“Yes, my lord, I am like fire, and like fire...” Katherina cradled Loki’s face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “You can be burned by it.”

She brought her knee up swiftly and struck Loki in the groin. And Loki, god or not, immortal or not, doubled over with a grunt. Katherina ran for one of the oval shaped doors and disappeared.

She came to a stairway and ran headlong down it. She rounded a corner and came across Minion who was climbing the stairs with a platter full of food and wine. He barely had time to cry out before Katherina knocked him over. He tumbled down the stairs with the clatter of metal wares, the princess stepping over and around bouncing fruits and shattered glass.

When she found the bottom, she exited another door and found herself in a courtyard underneath the green sky. Before her was a large gate that led out of the castle grounds.

She dashed for it, but when only a heartbeat away, a wall of green flames burst up before her and cut her off from escape. She fell to her knees, and all the fear and anxiety she had repressed until this moment exploded from her; the specter of fear taking control. Her body betrayed her, and she sobbed in rage and anguish.

Behind her came the inevitable sound of Loki approaching. His steps were like thunder, his howls like a storm. A shadow fell across the inner courtyard, and a thunderous footfall later, his form filled the arch. He was a giant, his eyes were not only lavender in color, but slitted and aglow with feral light. Horns curved up from his brow and fangs as big as tusks deformed his lip. Fire burned about him.

“Woman!” he howled. “Thou art betrayal!” He towered over Katherina, who covered her head and whimpered, expecting to be struck down at any moment. “God was wise in casting your kind from Eden, you take council from snakes! And it shows from daughter to daughter!” Loki stomped his foot next to Katherina’s head. She cried out, broken by fear, and began to sob. The green fire plucked at her like fingers.

Loki arched his back and drew in a deep breath. He clenched his fists and released his breath slowly, and it rattled as it left him. His stature shrank and he reached down and effortlessly pulled Katherina up by her arm. He turned and dragged her in the direction of the doorway.

“I did not go through all this effort to bring you here so I could kill you in a rage.” Loki growled as he climbed the stairs. The horns on his head were now gone.

“I won’t do it, I won’t have anything to do with you!” Katherina insisted. She cried out every time Loki yanked her arm.

They crossed the chamber with the table, and ascended another set of stairs. “It really doesn’t matter what you think, I will
take
from you what I want.” Now his fangs were gone, his voice smooth.

The stairs came to an abrupt end at a single door. Loki opened it and threw her in. Katherina sprawled on the floor of a small chamber with windows on all sides. It was the top story of a tower.

“You can’t keep me here forever, someone will come for me!”

Loki stood in the doorway. His eyes were now their usual dark color. He looked as before; a thin, sharp man in a black cape. “My dear Lady, the nearest knight in shining armor to come to your rescue is an icicle. There will be no one coming to your aid. There are no more heroes!”

#

Patrick Gawain stood, crossed himself, and opened his eyes.

The weather was starting to change. A cold wind picked up and clouds slid toward the sun. He turned, and in the distance he could see the sphere’s relentless approach, heralded by lightning.

The swan honked impatiently and dove into the gate.

“All right, already,” Patrick said, mounting Siegfried and hoisting the shield and lance. He grumbled under his breath, “Stupid duck.”

He stared at the shimmering pool of light, held his breath as if he were about to plunge into water, then put heels to the horse’s flanks.

It was not unlike plunging into water as he passed through the air of Avalon like a thick curtain of mist and burst into a brilliant world. The swan was dashing before him and creating a trail on the silver glassy water.

Patrick was amazed. It took him a moment to find his bearings; for one moment he was in familiar Avalon; now he was on top of a horse riding on the surface of a lake as if it were solid ground. The swan half flew, half ran in front of them. It kicked up water, yet its feet also seemed to land on it as if it were solid.

He set a steady pace behind the bird. For all he knew it was the only thing keeping them afloat as they ran for a castle in the distance, their apparent destination. Siegfried charged along, snorting and whinnying with a vitality Patrick was not aware the beast had. He kicked up water like foam from crashing surf.

The swan, the horse, and the knight raced for the castle. Patrick was feeling a vitality of his own and he cried out in exhilaration, his cape snapping in the wind.

#

In the castle, Loki paced upon the flagstones. Not that they were stone at all. They had the opalescence of a mollusk shell. The entire edifice was hewn from the substance, and the mortar that bound them was as translucent as quartz. The mirror was once again flashing images of its own accord. Loki slapped the side of it, causing the images to flutter. He cursed it, but suddenly froze. He waved his hand at it for better reception.

He stood up straight. “Minion!” he bellowed.

The little man came running. “Yes, Master?”

Loki stabbed a finger at the mirror.

Puzzled, Minion gazed upon the device, then gasped.

There was Patrick Gawain charging over the lake like a hero. His shield and helm flashing, his cape billowing, and a stern look on his face. The white swan emblem blazed on his chest.

“‘Don’t worry Master, I took care of him,’” Loki said, his face contorting along with his voice in order to mimic Minion’s. He slapped the dwarfish man several times. “I guess if you send an idiot to do a man’s job, you will just end up doing it yourself!”

“But Master, I do not understand.”

“Enough, silence!” He began to pace again, stopping occasionally to gaze into the mirror. He stopped the pacing and did his characteristic meditation. He drew a deep breath and looked into the mirror, his eyes flaring, and then he intoned:

Here me in the cavern darken,

and to me harken.

You vestige of the fire wyrm,

whose breath doth burn.

Rise you son of Nidhug,

and destroy this man-cub!

There was a momentary tremor throughout the castle. Loki threw back his head and laughed menacingly at the end of the command. Lightning flashed from his hands and danced throughout the chamber.

And just as suddenly as this production started, Loki ceased it and he was the image of calm.

He looked to the gaping Minion solemnly. “Was that a little much?”

#

Siegfried came to a halt and reared, pawing at the air. Patrick held on tight and watched the swan also flutter about uneasily. He had felt a tremor that reminded him of a giant’s foot coming down, and evidently the animals, being more sensitive, had felt it more keenly.

Siegfried came to rest and continued to paw at the water they stood upon. They were almost to the edge of the glass mountain, yet the swan hesitated.

“Well, let’s get on with it,” Patrick said, and just then a ripple emanated from the glass isle, sending a small wave over the horse’s hooves. “What the hell was that?”

They waited for a long moment and nothing happened. Patrick put heels to Siegfried and continued forward. The swan honked in protest, but he took no heed.

They came to the edge of the isle. It rose from a white sand beach, and a crystal silt roadway began on the other side, leading up the side of the mountain to the castle. Patrick led his horse onto the road and began to climb. The swan was still honking.

Siegfried halted, and again Patrick felt the tremor. The horse took to pawing at the ground and snorting. The hairs on the back of Patrick’s neck stood on end, but nothing more happened after some moments. So he put heels to the horse again.

But before he could move on, glass exploded just above the road with the sound of a thousand crystal chalices shattering.

Siegfried bucked and whinnied, and the swan took flight. Glass was pushing up like earth before a mole, and like a mole, a creature burst forth.

“Oh my God,” he mouthed.

Siegfried was evidently just as shocked, for not only was he frozen in place, but there was a
plop
followed by the unmistakable smell of manure.

The creature was huge. Three times again the size of knight and mount that stood dumfounded before it. It slithered out of the hole that produced it, indifferent to the shards of glass it dragged itself over. It scales rippled over brawny muscles. It had no wings, which Patrick thought dragons were supposed to have, but it had a sufficiently long muzzle and terrible enough teeth, and a spiny ridge that ran the length of its body. It was a rusty color, had eyes yellow and blazing around dark slits, and when it opened its mouth it revealed an evil purple tongue. It came forward, slowly and deliberately, on legs that only minimally aided its serpentine body.