Heirs of Avalon: The passage Read online

  “Is she dead?” Melora asked in a weak voice.

  “No, unfortunately,” I said, bitterly regretting not having killed the witch.

  I examined Melora, and when I saw the knife planted in her shoulder, I gasped in dismay; it was unbearable to see her suffer.

  “Hold on to me!” I urged her. “I’m going to carry you. We mustn’t stay here.”

  “Gabriel, I don’t understand… Who was that? She said you killed her mother.” With a stifled sob, she added, “She killed Caroline with her sword. Caroline!”

  “Easy, easy. We’ll talk about it later,” I promised her in a soft voice. “For now, let me take care of you.”

  I lifted her up, and instead of protesting, she nestled against me and tucked her head into the hollow between my neck and shoulder. I was worried, as she had lost a lot of blood and seemed weak, maybe even in shock. I had to act fast.

  As I was about to leave the room, Gliton arrived, her eyes wide with fright when she saw who I was carrying. “Is she…?”

  “No!” I cut in vehemently. “Where’s Viviane?”

  “She’s with Glitonea and Tyronoe, erasing our presence. We were lucky – Alwena cast a sleep-spell over the whole building, so all the residents didn’t see or hear anything.”

  “Well, I guess everything’s just perfect then,” I growled. “And how are we going to hide Caroline’s body in there?”

  My sarcastic question made Gliton wince and turn red under the implied reproach.

  “Your grandmother knows what to do,” she assured me. “Let’s just take care of Melora.”

  Without a glance or a comment, I hurried down the stairs.

  At the exit, I recited the invisibility formula so that no one would see me carrying her to the car. One more thing I alone knew how to do. No other magicians could make a person other than themselves become invisible. All I had to do was touch the other person – no potion needed. Another mystery concerning my powers.

  Charles was waiting for me, car door open, so I alerted him of our presence in a whisper, settled my burden softly on the back seat and climbed in. He closed the door as if nothing was more natural, regardless of a curious look shot at him by a passerby. Charles was human, but he was perfectly well aware of who we were, and I admired his gift of acting as if everything were normal.

  Gliton got in on the other side. I’d already pulled out the knife, with Charles grimacing at the sight, not because he was bothered by the sight of blood, but because it was getting on the seat. I pressed my hand on the wound, while Gliton laid hers on Melora’s forehead.

  “She’s not reacting!” I cried, panicking.

  “She’s lost too much blood. You don’t have enough energy to heal her.”

  “Charles, bring us to the nearest park,” I ordered. “And hurry!”

  He hit the accelerator and we flew along the Parisian streets, not an easy business in a Rolls Royce, driving through a city of narrow, congested roads. But after a few minutes, interminable minutes for me, and lots of honking, we reached the Luxembourg gardens. I discreetly exited the car, Melora gathered in my arms, and hurried over the grass to an old oak. I set her gently on the ground.

  She was unconscious, and fear gnawed at me when I saw how white her face was.

  I will not lose her! I can’t!

  I told myself it was for the good of Avalon; but I knew deep down that was just an excuse. I had feelings for her, even though it was a struggle to admit.

  I placed one hand against her wound, the other flat on the ground, and I called to the oak, asking it to give me its force. I felt its energy flow into me, softly at first, then more vigorously. I concentrated, directing it into Melora, and after a few seconds, seconds that were an eternity to me, her chest lifted and she opened her mouth wide, sucking in air. Shat stared at me, bewildered. I could read the terror in her eyes, the incomprehension and pain, and my heart sank.

  “It’s all right, Melora. It’s all over…. You’re going to feel better now.”

  “No, I’m not going to feel better,” she snapped, pushing my hands away. “I must be going crazy! All this is unreal! What have you done?”

  I stiffened, feeling her words like a slap in the face. Gliton folded Melora in her arms, the invisibility spell having faded away while I was healing her.

  “Oh, Mama!” Melora sobbed.

  “Shhhhh, it’s alright,” Gliton whispered, smoothing her hair.

  “We have to leave,” I said, trying to maintain a calm face. “We have to get back to Comper as soon as possible.”

  To my consternation, Melora refused to let me help her stand up, and supported by Gliton, she limped back to the car without a glance at me. I felt hurt, then angry, but it was my job to protect her and I wasn’t going to ask for her opinion.

  “Get in,” I ordered, having opened the door to the Rolls before Charles could do it.

  She glared at me before obeying sulkily. To my relief, we made the trip without another word, as Melora had fallen into a deep, healing sleep.

  Viviane met Melora at the entrance to the castle and led her into the living room. Melora looked drawn and tired, and her movements seemed a bit stiff, so when Viviane proposed a cup of tea, she assented gratefully. But when she noticed me standing at the window, she scowled and looked away.

  Gliton and Galahad came in, and a long silence fell, broken only when Viviane announced in a clear voice, “We have to talk to you, Melora. We owe you some explanations.”

  Looking surprised, Melora sat up, her eyes fixed on Viviane, waiting for her to continue.

  “I would have liked to speak of these things in a less brutal way, but we don’t have time.”

  She took a deep breath, and let out the whole truth: “You don’t come from this world. You’re Queen Melora Pendragon, daughter and heir of King Arthur Pendragon, sovereign of the kingdom of Avalon.”

  Everyone watched the young woman anxiously, awaiting her reaction. Melora swallowed painfully, gazing at the people around her. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she turned to Gliton, and said imploringly,

  “Mama?”

  It was Viviane who replied, not Gliton. “She’s not your mother –she’s your foster-parent, charged by the King to take care of you. Your birth mother, Sylvaine de Buges, died from a malignant fever when you were only two months old.”

  I rolled my eyes, annoyed by my grandmother’s brutal insistence and lack of consideration.

  “This must be some kind of joke!” Melora cried. “And it’s in very bad taste. I’ve studied the life of King Arthur enough to know that he was married to Guinevere.”

  “That’s correct. He wasn’t married to your mother, but he loved her. She was a great comfort to him when he learned of his wife’s infidelity with his most loyal knight, Lancelot.”

  Galahad immediately lowered his eyes.

  Viviane continued, “As I’ve explained to Gabriel, we Avalonians don’t age in this world, so you remained a beautiful baby for more than a thousand years, then we found a means to make you grow, a spell implanted in the pendant around your neck.”

  She pointed at the tiny silver dragon holding a sword in its claws. Melora instinctively closed her hand around it while Viviane, true to herself, continued to deliver her explanation without mincing words.

  “This enchantment allows you to grow and to reach the proper age to reign over Avalon. It’s true that you’ve just turned eighteen, but in reality, you’re one thousand four hundred and seventy-two years old.”

  Melora stared at her, stupefied, trying to digest the information hitting her with the speed of an arrow to the heart.

  And surely as painful to her, I thought bitterly.

  She pointed toward me, after having deliberately ignored me since the beginning of the conversation, and asked the fairy, “Is he from Avalon too?”

  Her face grew hard, and she pinched her lips into a thin line.

  “No,” Viviane answered. “Gabriel is my grandson, and Merlin’s. He was born here, bu
t he possesses his grandfather’s powers, and even more than that – he is Merlin’s heir, charged to defend and protect Avalon and its ruler. Merlin swore loyalty to King Arthur, and pledged himself and his descendants to protect Arthur’s lineage. And Gabriel didn’t know who you really were until today.”

  Melora jumped to her feet. She shook her head as if her ears were buzzing intolerably, and her eyes flashed with anger as she looked at each person in turn in the circle around her.

  “How could you have done that to me?” she protested. “How could you have used me like a pawn? Whatever I feel doesn’t matter to you at all – only that stupid island interests you!”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she started yelling, her voice full of reproach, “Caroline died because of you! I won’t be your queen. I don’t want to hear about or even know where your island is. I won’t have anything to do with you!”

  She rushed out of the room in a rage.

  The heavy silence that followed her outburst was beginning to weigh on us, so I said, “Well, Viviane, it seems to me she took it rather well!”

  She didn’t bother responding to my comment, and calmly sipped her tea.

  Four hours later, I went up to Melora’s room and knocked softly at her door, hoping to hear her say I could come in. All this time, she’d been brooding in there, and despite Viviane’s assurance that she would resign herself to the situation once she’d calmed down, I wasn’t convinced.

  I knocked again, more insistently this time.

  “Melora, let me in please,” I coaxed. “You must have a lot of questions… Let me explain – I promise to be a lot more pleasant about it than my grandma was.”

  The door remained stubbornly shut, and I was about to give up when I heard the lock click. To my great relief, the door swung open and I saw Melora’s face, pale and fixed. Before letting me come in, she looked at me coldly for a moment with her gray-green eyes, from which all traces of gaiety had evaporated. I couldn’t help thinking how pretty she was, even like that.

  I surprised her by closing the door and she turning my back to go stand at the window to pretend to contemplate the vast forest spread out beneath it.

  I took a deep breath and waded in. “You can’t be angry with me, Melora – I didn’t know who you were, I swear! I’ve had my share of suffering too, and I didn’t ask to be who I am either!”

  After a short silence, she questioned me: “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “I found it out on the night after my twelfth birthday. If I’d told you when we saw each other again, four years later, that I was a magician, wouldn’t you have thought I was crazy?”

  “Maybe… But after a little reflection, I’m starting to understand many things. Like the fact that you must have been responsible for all that enchantment in Paris I felt when we were together?”

  My self-esteem bruised, I moved closer to her, gritted my teeth and protested, “If you’re insinuating that I used magic to seduce you, you’re mistaken… I didn’t need to.”

  She faced me, chin raised and eyes flashing with defiance. “Alcohol doesn’t affect me that way, like I told you before. Did you think for a single instant that I was falling for you?”

  Her cynicism irritated me. The tension between us was palpable and the air started to feel suffocating. We both refused to lower our eyes.

  My God, she’s beautiful when she’s angry, I thought. It required a great effort to keep my expression neutral.

  Determined to end our dispute, I announced calmly, with a hint of bitterness in my voice, “I didn’t use magic on you, but I would have liked being able to use it to defend my parents, when Alwena’s mother attacked and killed them.”

  This shocked Melora speechless for a moment. Shaken, she blinked rapidly several times, and a gleam of tenderness brightened her face as she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  Relieved that I’d finally gotten her to lower her weapons, I then recounted everything that I’d done since I was twelve: training, lessons, battles, searching for the spell book. She listened attentively, with starts of fear now and then when she realized the dangers I’d often had to face. To my surprise, sharing my secrets with her comforted me.

  At the end of my tale, she hesitated a bit, then asked me, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course!”

  “Do you believe I’m what Viviane said I am? And do you think I’m capable of ruling a kingdom?”

  Then, as if speaking to herself, she mumbled, showing her self-doubt, “I don’t even know where I fit in myself, and I couldn’t even help Caroline, so how can I take care of thousands of people?”

  “That's several questions!” I quipped.

  I became serious again, “If Viviane says you’re the queen, it’s because you are. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to work for justice and to help people? Now you have the chance to do it! Whether you want it or not, they are your people and they need you; believe me, I’ve seen them – they’re suffering and they’re desperate. And what about Caroline? I know I want to punish her assassin!”

  She frowned, and her firm character took over.

  “You’re right. I suppose there are worse futures than that. I should stop lamenting my fate. Tell Viviane I want to talk to her.”

  “Hah, ordering me around already!” I joked.

  “Don’t forget I’m about fourteen hundred and fifty years older than you,” she retorted with the ghost of a smile. “Plus, you’re my protector.”

  “It’s not as simple as that, mademoiselle. You’re supposed to listen to my good advice and, whether it pleases you or not, in this world, I’m the oldest.”

  It warmed my heart to hear her giggle, to find the Melora I’d known since childhood alive and kicking, although on reflection, she was no longer the girl I remembered. I watched her, my eyes half-closed, as she raised her silvery-gray eyes to mine. Suddenly, I got the impression she was holding her breath. Moved by an irresistible desire, I lingered over every line of her face, at her silky brown hair tumbling over her shoulders and the light shining on its waves. Her almond-shaped eyes drew my gaze back. They were slightly wide apart, giving her a feline air. Her full, sharply-outlined lips were made for kisses. When she saw where the caress of my look had stopped, her cheeks turned rosy. I had to get a grip on myself or I would lose control, so I turned my back on her, mumbled that I’d wait for her downstairs with Viviane, and closed the door without another glance.

  Melora felt a great emptiness in her room when Gabriel left. Just after sunset, she went downstairs to the living room, where he was sitting between Viviane and Gliton, emanating such virility and serenity that she had to call on all her resources not to blush, or reveal her emotions.

  She announced clearly and confidently that she now understood the reasons that led them to hide her origins, and that she was ready to shoulder the responsibilities belonging to her rank.

  Gliton got up and hugged her while Viviane expressed her satisfaction: “I knew you had your father’s strength of character. You’re the daughter of a respected, venerated king, the last descendant of a noble lineage, and your place is on the Throne of Avalon.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Melora,” Gliton exulted, still holding her tightly.

  Melora looked over her shoulder at Gabriel, who stood up without speaking. The last golden light of evening glowed on his chestnut hair and accentuated his azure-blue eyes. His imposing stature made the room seem smaller than it was, and she noticed how his shirt molded his powerful muscles. Heat spread through her body, and she felt confused. He must have noticed, or she’d let her thoughts show, for Gabriel clenched his jaws and his eyes brightened dangerously. She instantly lowered her head to escape the enticing vision, and silently thanked Viviane for starting to speak.

  “We have to take care of your crowning first, Melora, so that all Avalon’s subjects know that its power has been reestablished. Everyone must know that Arthur’s daughter has survived. That will put Mordred into difficulties,
even if we can’t reach him for the moment.”

  When Viviane turned toward Gabriel, it was obvious to Melora that he also was having trouble to appear composed.

  “Have you succeeded in unraveling the formula for opening the passage?” Viviane asked him.

  “Not yet.”

  “That must be your top priority if we want to re-take the kingdom.”

  “I know,” he replied tersely. He was about to continue when George knocked at the door and came in to announce that a certain Evan Boissand wished to speak with Mademoiselle Melora.

  His arrival astonished everyone, and it showed especially in Melora’s face. Disconcerted, she turned to her godmother with an interrogating look. Gabriel merely frowned.

  Viviane looked irritated, but her voice was calm as she addressed the young woman. “It’s true that your fiancé must be worried due to your sudden departure, and wants an explanation. You understand of course that we can’t tell him the truth, as he’s human.”

  Melora went on the defense immediately.

  “Maybe, but I’m the one who chose him,” she declared. “Gabriel’s father was human too, and that never posed a problem.”

  Viviane narrowed her eyes and pinched her lips, and in a dangerously low voice, said, “If you mean to say that you could live in exile far from us and far from your people, well, there’s absolutely no question of it. My daughter’s choice was not one that is open to you.”

  “That’s not what I meant at all,” Melora blustered, annoyed by her godmother, but a bit daunted too. “There must be some way to avoid making him suspect anything.”

  “I’ll think it over,” Viviane assured her. “We can keep him away from the ceremony by using the sleeping spell, and after it’s all over, he can act as your knight for the festivities following your investiture.”

  Melora nodded in relief and left the room to see Evan.