The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) (6 page)

Merlin couldn’t help but wonder if he held a grudge against the one who’d carried out the deed. Was the wielder of the knife now inside the kingdom? The fae stood back and carefully looked over each rosebush. Satisfied, he moved off towards another garden. 

“I am bound by my oath as a member to attend,” Krieger said.

“Why would the Royal Houses agree to a meeting? Why accept Grigori after centuries of vampire rulers?”

“To create stability.” Krieger lifted his chin, perhaps catching a familiar scent. “We are in uncertain times. Russia is too large, too volatile to be left adrift with no leader. The Russian subjects and the advisors have spoken and accepted this Grigori.”

“The advisors,” he sneered. “They are the rulers, not this aberration sitting on the throne.”

“And that is why we’ve agreed to show ourselves, together, as one, at the same time and place. We shall see with our own eyes what this Grigori is, or is not.”

“Which is why I need to be with you instead of left here to handle the daily squabbles of the Others.”

“You feel it is beneath you?” Krieger’s jaw tightened. “You once accused me of hubris. That is the word you used.”

“It was hubris. Giving Lily your blood with no understanding of what she was capable of.”

“If I had let her die do you think Grigori would not be alive now, or the Elder still among us…and Nina?”

Merlin roughly rolled his shirt sleeves down. “Perhaps, perhaps not, some things are inescapable.”

“Inescapable,” Krieger said, rolling his tongue as if tasting the word. “I must go to the council meeting. We have never convened without the Elder. Do you think he is truly dead?” Merlin did not reply. “I trust only you to care for my kingdom while I am gone.”

“I have no desire to rule over anyone.”

“Few great rulers ever do.” He placed his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Have you seen nothing?”

“There are too many timelines, too many possible trajectories for the future.” Merlin looked into the king’s eyes. “I did reach Bleheris.”
For the last time
.

Krieger tightened his grip on Merlin’s shoulder.

“He mentioned guardians, that they should be preserved. Does that mean anything to you?”

“No.”

Krieger released him and he folded like an old doll and had to rest his hands on his knees to keep from collapsing. From this angle he could see through the woods to a tree cleaved in two like a giant had snapped the top off and tossed it down to scatter about the trunk. His mind had always been his best asset. He had prided himself on the control he had over his emotions, his thoughts; now he felt unable to sustain a long conversation, much less complex reasoning, without drifting off. “Without the visions… it may be time I join Bleheris.”

“No!” Krieger yanked him upright. “I forbid you to even think it.” He shook him. “The visions were a curse to you.”

He hoped one day to feel the same. “I am Merlin. I am a wizard, and a sorcerer, and a seer of futures.” His laugh was bitter. “Was a seer of futures. I accused you of hubris, and yet, here I stand, believing my powers would last an eternity.”

“You think your true power were those brief glimpses of what may be?” Krieger stepped back from him. “Your true power resides in your ability to harness the magic. The magic that now surrounds us.”

“Magic is a cruel mistress who takes far more than she gives.” The Others were all benefiting from the cracks in the gate, if that’s what it was. Even the vampires were more powerful. “So it is true.” He stumbled back onto a bench, not caring that it was wet, and sat down. A lifetime’s worth of weariness crashed down upon him. “The talk of revealing ourselves to the humans; there is some truth to it?”

“It is one of the things we will discuss at council.” Krieger’s expression hardened.

He took a deep breath. He couldn’t deny the truth of Krieger’s words nor the chill that seeped into his bones. “I’ve had no visions, but there is a dream.”

“A dream.” The intensity of Krieger’s gaze was almost painful.

“I’ve dreamt of Lily.”

Krieger became perfectly still as only a vampire could, waiting for him to elaborate.

“She’s large with child, standing at the edge of a cliff. A gale is trying to push her back, back towards the safety of the land, and away from the drop-off. The sea in front of her is violent, rolling and pitching, the crest of the waves stretching skyward like they’re trying to pull her down into the depths. Above, the moon is full, peaceful and glowing in a black satin sky with no stars.” Merlin hesitated.

“And?” the king urged impatiently.

Merlin knew this would be his reaction. Lily was his Achilles’ heel. “She looks back at someone and smiles. A dark shadow passes between her and the moon, it soars above her and she lifts her arms to it.”

“A dragon.”

“Yes,” Merlin said. 

“Is there more?” Krieger asked.

Merlin shook his head. “No more, no less; each time the dream is the same.”

Krieger resumed his walk to the ouleds’ village and Merlin used the last of his energy to keep pace with him, saying, “It could mean nothing.”

“Nothing.” The king uttered the word like a slap. “Nothing, you say. Who wields the Dragon Sword? Who carries the dragon within? A blind man can see the way Lucien looks at Lily. Who else could be the dragon of your dream?” He spat out the words, “What that necromancer did to Lucien…”

“Faye Nimue.” How many decades had it been since Merlin had uttered her name? “She was seduced by the dark magic, and pushed to use it to seat the Tudor king on the throne.” He shouldn’t be defending her, but was he not ever so slowly being overtaken by the allure of the dark? “Without Faye’s spell on the Bosworth battlefield, the soldiers would have been no match for Richard’s army.”

Faye had wielded her power on the dead and dying soldiers of Henry Tudor’s army to keep them fighting until King Richard III was dead. Now, with centuries of his own trials and tribulations behind him, Merlin felt a hint of empathy towards the powerful enchantress. Without her help the battle would have been lost, but once the allies fully understood the enormity of her powers, they’d recompensed her loyalty by turning against her. Lucien had been the one to slip the spelled blade between her breasts and stop the sorceress’s heart. In her last moments, she’d lashed out against them and Lucien had borne the burden of her curse ever since.

Krieger stopped. “Is it possible that her death broke Lucien’s curse?”

Merlin wished it were so, but this was no fairytale with a happy ending. Faye’s curse against Lucien had held, even in death. “No,” he replied. Though Krieger had asked the same question many times before, the king always seemed to hold out hope that one day the curse would be reversed. “What, if anything, the dream means, I know Lucien would never hurt Lily.”

Krieger turned to face him, the night shadows casting ghostly shadows over his face. “Advise me.”

“Am I talking to the king, the man, the vampire?” Merlin lifted his palms up.

Krieger leaned his head back to take in the night sky. Merlin did the same and noticed the cloud layer had thinned enough that he could see a few stars. “All the above.”

“Her fate was sealed the night Lily drank your blood and became Sanguis Ancilla. She may be the Eve of vampires. Take her, make her yours in all ways, and stop playing the love-struck suitor.”

Krieger’s glance was quick and harsh. Merlin should have been more tactful, but he was too weary for word play and didn’t follow as Krieger continued down the path. Too late he remembered that he’d forgotten to give him Hunter’s message.

Lily

“Gracious, get inside.” Martha must have heard them drive up to her home and was standing on the porch waving them towards her open front door. “You too, young man.”

“Thank you,” Rohm said, “but I’ll stay outside on the porch.”

Lily could tell Martha was going to argue and interceded. “Krieger wouldn’t let me drive over here by myself, not with the storm and all.”

“I would say not.” Martha watched as Rohm sat in the swing. “Though it is nice now that the storm has passed. You’ll let me know if you want anything.”

“I will,” he said.

“I didn’t wake you,” Lily said, stepping inside and following Martha back to the kitchen.

Lily’s father, Walter, had deeded this plot of land along with the house to Martha for her years of service to the family. The home was tucked behind a copse of white oak that kept the house cool even during the hottest days of a Virginia summer. It was the first structure built on the Waverly estate and had been used by the architect while the main house was being constructed. Martha’s home looked like so many old Virginia homesteads, a two-story with a central staircase and a wrap-around porch. She’d softened the hard lines of the rooms with chintz covered furniture and rugs spread on the hardwood floors with pictures of family hanging in small groupings on the egg-shell colored walls.

“Lord no, child. I’m up till all hours of the night now.” Martha waggled her eyebrows. “Reading my stories.”

Really, Lily thought, just reading your stories with your hair freshly colored and cut, and – to her amazement – wearing stylish jeans, a white blouse, and a pink cardigan. Where was her ubiquitous polyester pantsuit? Truly, Martha had more than Hillary Clinton. Instead of asking, Lily sat at the wooden kitchen table as Martha pushed a cup of coffee in front of her and craned her head to see the cover of Martha’s book. “I’m afraid to ask what this one is about.”

Martha topped off her cup and settled in to the chair next to her. “Oh, it’s wicked, I tell you. It’s about a priest, a lovely priest, who is a sadist.”

“A sadist,” she repeated as a whiff of Martha’s perfume floated by. “What is that exactly?”

“Someone who enjoys inflicting pain on others.”

Why would anyone want to do that? “Doesn’t that go against everything a priest stands for?”

“You would think.” Martha pushed the paperback towards her. “He’s a good man. If he were real, I’d like to meet him.”

Lily turned the book over in her hands, noticing the spine broken in a few places, probably the sections with the ‘naughty bits’ as Martha called them. Curious to see what would happen, she reached out to the book like she did the archives but received no response.

“You can borrow it if you like. I’m on my second reading.”

“Maybe later, on that cruise we keep talking about.”

“I’m ready whenever you girls are.” Martha sipped her coffee. “So tell me why you’re here.”

Martha could always read her so easily. Lily put the book down and rolled her coffee cup between her hands. “I wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for a few days. Krieger and I are taking a trip.”

“Someplace romantic, I hope.”

“An island in the UK, not exactly sure where, but near Wales, I think.”

“That could be romantic.”

It wouldn’t be, but she let Martha have her nice thoughts. “I need your advice.”

“About what, dear?”

“Were you ever in love?”

Martha shifted in her seat and placed an arm over the back of the chair. “Of course. I loved someone very deeply once.”

Memories of an uncomfortable conversation when she was ten about boys and girls and sex caused Lily to flush.

“You’re not a child anymore,” Martha said. “I see the way Mr. Barnes looks at you.”

“How do you know if it’s right?”

“What do you mean by right?”

Well, as the old farm manager used to say, ‘this is where the rubber meets the road.’ “He’s always so sure of himself and when I’m around him I feel that too.”

“And…”

“It’s overwhelming at times. I’ve seen Jo chew through men like Skittles. Each one is Mr. Right until he becomes Mr. Wrong. It takes a toll on her.”

“You aren’t Jo. For one thing, you think too much.”

“I know.”

“And for another, Mr. Barnes treats you nothing like Jo’s men friends. I’ve seen love in a man’s eye before. What he feels for you is real; you don’t need to question it.”

“What if he were a sadist, like the man in your book, if he had secrets, a dark side?”

A crease deepened on Martha’s brow. “Does he hurt you?”

“No, no.” Lily took a sip of coffee. “He’d do anything to keep me from being hurt.”

“We all have secrets, sides of ourselves that we don’t want others to see.”

“He tries to share. It’s… I never felt… physical attraction… before him.”

Martha leaned forward, perhaps trying to glean from her expression what she was trying to express.

“I feel it strongest with him, but not just him.”

“Oh. Anyone in particular?” Martha looked towards the front porch. “Rohm?”

“No,” Lily whispered, hoping he wasn’t listening. “Someone else.”

The corner of Martha’s mouth lifted and quivered. “That is a puzzle.”

Lily couldn’t help but shake her head and smile back. Martha was trying hard not to laugh.

“I know you’re concerned, but it’s perfectly natural to feel attraction for other people, even if you love someone.”

Now that she’d said it the weight of guilt lessened. “I love Krieger. I truly do, but he can be so difficult, so hard to understand sometimes.”

“And this other man, what is he like?”

“He’s always teasing me – you know, in a good way. He makes me laugh.”

“Why don’t you stay with me while you think this out?”

“I can’t. I wish I could, but right now is not a good time.”

Martha didn’t press. “Has this other man made his intentions known?”

“Intentions known.” Lily giggled with nerves. “No, he wouldn’t. He’s like a brother to Krieger.”

“Oh, this is bad, then. It’s one thing for a man to lose the woman he loves to another, and quite a different thing for him to lose her to his best friend.”

“I know.” She looked down at her coffee. “I don’t think I love him, not like Krieger.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

Lily dropped her head into her hands, unable to meet Martha’s eyes. What must Martha think of her right now? She’d come here to tell Martha about the Others, that Krieger was a vampire, a king, and here she was babbling on about love and attraction.