Lucan: The Pendragon Legacy (5 page)

The Priestess of Avalon is from another realm where the sun shines differently. But the magic of Avalon never changes.

—T
HE
L
ADY OF THE
L
AKE

C
ael stared hard at Avalon, searching for a remnant of one tiny sparkle, but the shield had truly disappeared. As Avalon’s High Priestess, she could not show uncertainty or dread. Or fear. Straining under the burden of her position, she called on inner strength to appear serene and joyous. And, indeed, a part of her was full of joy and hope.

If the Holy Grail was inside, as the glyphs Lucan had translated certainly implied, it could cure thousands of her people, including her neH2phew, whose condition was worsening by the day. Just yesterday she’d spoken to Jaylon, and he’d sounded so weak. He’d made her promise to visit soon and to bring the Grail. She prayed to the Goddess that she could keep both promises.

Outside the window, Avalon dominated the view, a dark, massive stone building of mystery. The momentous occasion had upset her equilibrium and had her mind whirling, her nerves rattled. For so long she’d yearned for the healing powers of the Grail. So why were her feet rooted to the floor, reluctant to move? She should have been elated.

Maybe it was natural to worry. As long as Avalon’s shield had stood, Cael could hope that someday they might find a way inside. Someday they might find the Grail.

Someday had turned into today.

And now she feared Avalon would be empty, that the Grail would not be inside, that finding the holy cup would prove as impossible as taming the wind, and her dreams would end. Then she’d have to go to back to the city of Feridon, where Jaylon was dying, and tell her nephew she’d failed. That not only couldn’t her healing skills cure him, but that she hadn’t found the Grail. Then he’d live out his last few weeks without hope.

She stroked the sacred choker she wore to conceal the dark purple scales that twined around her neck. At her touch, those marks, the ultimate symbol of what she was, fluttered as if asking for release.

Not now.

The seemingly magical disintegration of the shield had the team buzzing, consulting their instruments and speaking quietly among themselves. From across the room, Cael could see that Lucan looked baffled, mystified, excited.

He was an intriguing mix of intellect and physicality, a man who could argue his point as well as fight for it. A fitting helpmate for a priestess. Frightened by how much that thought appealed to her, she squelched it, even as she admired Lucan’s height, his shiny black hair that almost touched his collar, his blue eyes emphasized by his glasses. Sharp cheekbones added to his intensity and attractiveness. She had to keep a grip on her emotions. Desiring him was way too dangerous.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Lucan looked at her and began to cross the room. “I’m going outside to take a look.” Lucan spoke softly in her ear, his breath fanning her neck. In the celebration, she hadn’t noticed his approach, and the warmth of his breath on her neck almost made her jump.

To other women the implied intimacy of his whisper might be a small thing, but in all Cael’s years, no male had ever sought her out, whispered in her ear, or shared secrets with her. No one. Suddenly, she was all too aware of Lucan, his powerful shoulders, his corded neck, his chest that was as broad as the Dumaro desert.

What was he thinking? Didn’t he have any regard for proper behavior?

She should have admonished him. Instead, she kept her voice low. “You want to go now? What’s your rush?”

“How can you be so patient?” he countered, his eyes twinkling.

The scales on the insides thfont of her wrists began to tingle, and she didn’t have to be an empath to read his eagerness.

“This is an historic moment. It mustn’t be hurried.” She smiled to take the sting from her words. “The president will make a speech. Video crews will come in so the public can witness the event. Would you deny everyone a chance to be part of—”

“We don’t know how long the ground will remain stable. And we don’t know what made the shield come down,” Lucan said, daring to interrupt her. “Suppose the shield raises again just as suddenly? Or the obelisk collapses? We could miss our opportunity.”

“Or be trapped or crushed inside.” Quentin came up behind them. His tone was firm. “No one’s going into that building until the engineers clear it.”

Shaw joined them. “Why not?”

Quentin stared down at Shaw. “I won’t have needless deaths on my watch.”

From the rising tension in Lucan, Cael thought he might explode. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her away from the debating leaders.

Lucan was touching her. Absurdly, she wanted to lean closer into him and had to remind herself that he could lose his life for that gesture.

Cael glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, with the lights dimmed and all gazes on Avalon, no one paid them any attention. Except Rion. Out of her peripheral vision, she thought she saw him watching them, but when she turned to look, he glanced away.

Warm and firm, Lucan’s touch shot tingles straight to her belly. The last time anyone had touched her… she’d been five. Until her fifth birthday, her parents had adhered to the law and treated her like her sisters. She’d been held and touched and loved, as if she was a normal little girl. But once she’d reached the age where she could practice dragonshaping, she’d lived apart from her sisters and parents and the Elders took over her education, teaching her about her dragon blood. A blood that made her stronger than her people. A blood that made it difficult for her to rein in her temper. A blood that made it possible for her to kill with dragon fire. For their own protection, her people were forbidden to antagonize her, to encroach on her space. Or to touch her.

Cael didn’t want to be different. She didn’t want to be feared. Or revered.

Of course, what she wanted didn’t matter. She was a High Priestess, sacred. Destined to walk through life alone. It was her fate.

For Lucan’s sake, she should pull away from the warmth of his hand. But she couldn’t summon the will-power to step aside. Especially after they strode through the exit and into the hall, where no one was around to see this breach of protocol. She was amazed that such a simple touch, such an ordinary connection between two people, could feel so extraordinary.

By the Goddess, he felt good.

Her blood raced too fast through her body. She couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs and had to force words past her breathlessness. “Where are we going?”

“Outside.” He dropped his hand and headed for the door. “To Avalon.”

“But Quentin said we couldn’t enter—”

“He didn’t say we couldn’t
look.
” His voice sounded husky, coaxing, conspiratorial.

All her life Cael had done what her people expected. She’d followed the rules that had been set long before she’d been born.

But when Lucan stepped outside, she followed him. Immediately she felt a shift in the air. Three decades ago, a Dragonian had invented air scrubbers that cleaned some of the pollutants from the skies. But factories had increased production and the scrubbers never seemed to keep up. Pollutants often fogged in the cities, and the air tasted bitter. But today the wind was fresh, the air almost clean.

“Come on.” Lucan took her hand, entwining his fingers in hers. She found herself matching his pace, running beside him toward the obelisk.

Lucan halted before Avalon’s shadowed entrance. The ancient bronzed doors beckoned. Without the shield to block them, they looked more solid, yet luminous, and her pulse simmered with excitement.

She placed her hand on the door, and it felt cool and smooth. A slight tingle skimmed up her arm—undoubtedly her imagination. She grasped the ancient lever that would tumble a lock. If she pulled, would the doors open?

“Don’t.” Lucan tugged her back.

“What’s wrong?” The urge to go inside was so strong her stomach drew into a tight knot.

He spun her around to face the laboratory they’d just left. “Fire. Look.”

Flames lit up the far perimeter of the lab. Already the blaze on the north side crackled, shooting hellish sparks into the sky. Red and orange flames raced along the rooftop.

She gasped in horror. “It’s spreading fast along the roof.”

“We have to go back and warn them.” His expression was set. “If the fire reaches the flammable chemicals stored there, the lab could explode before the team even realizes there’s danger.”

He was right. And yet… she didn’t want to leave Avalon. She had to force her feet toward the lab, her stride keeping pace with his as he pulled her along.

Hand in hand they sprinted toward the building to warn Shaw’s team. Outside the lab’s door, a whirring in the sky made her pause. She heard the engines of machines, skimmers, hovercraft, and choppers. “Listen. Help’s coming.”

Lucan tilted his head back and peered at the smoky sky. Flames silhouetted his bronzed face, his square jaw and determined eyes. Above, a squadron of aircraft loomed above the flames and dropped powder onto the fire.

Lucan’s eyes narrowed. “Are those firemen?”

“That’s the military.” Could General Brennon’s satellites have picked up on the fire that quickly? She held her breath, praying the powdQ qsky madeer would douse the conflagration. Instead, the opposite occurred. “By the Goddess. The fire’s burning faster.”

“That powder is an accelerant.”

She shuddered, her gut swirling with fear. “This fire… it’s no accident…” She met Lucan’s worried gaze. “I think it’s an attack. The military must have learned we dropped the shields.”

“They want the Grail,” Lucan muttered.

“Or they don’t want
us
to have it?” she suggested as he pulled her deeper into the shadows. “They may have even started the fire.”

“Hell, they may have caused the sinkhole.”

She peered over his shoulder at the airships, noting how he shielded her with his body.

Lucan twisted the handle to the door of an annex to the lab. “This fire’s their excuse to take over.”

“We have to warn Shaw.”

“The door’s locked.”

She removed her communicator from her pocket and watched while Lucan slid a screwdriver from his boot and attempted to jimmy the station door. She tried contacting Shaw, then Quentin. When neither answered, she swore under her breath. “The military must be jamming signals.”

“This way,” Lucan said. “Once we find Shaw, we’ll tell him that the scientists have been betrayed. Then we’ll find a way to protect Avalon.”

Betrayed? Of course. General Brennon must have had a spy on the scientific team. Someone must have notified him the minute that they’d eliminated the shield and now… the flames were spreading like the wind.

Why hadn’t the alarms sounded? Had the military jammed those, too? Did that mean the fire units wouldn’t respond? With the fire starting on the north end of the complex, the scientists inside still might not know what was happening.

When the lock gave, she shoved past Lucan, entered the building, and took stock of their situation. The lights were out, so the backup generators hadn’t kicked in. She sniffed but didn’t take in so much as a whiff of smoke. Either the internal air scrubbers were independent of the backup generators and removing the fumes, or the fire hadn’t reached this far.

“This way.” Taking Lucan’s hand, she led him down the hallway. How easy that small gesture of reaching out to him seemed. How natural. She could easily become used to touching. And being touched.

“You can see in the dark?” He was squinting through his glasses.

His question stopped her cold.

He had no idea what she was.

There was no other explanation.

“I’ve always had great eyesight.” She spoke lightly, but a shiver ran down her spine. The Priestess of Avalon, a dragonshaper, could see in the dark and possessed keen hearing. Everyone knew. dingI ]But not Lucan, apparently. No wonder he’d placed himself between her and the military airships. No wonder he held her hand and whispered in her ear. No wonder he didn’t fear her. He didn’t know. But how could he
not
know?