the blood-curdling scream of a monster trumps the atmosphere, forcing Azur’s eyes shut and me to cover my cold ears with colder hands. Beads of sweat line the parts of Azur’s face I can see. “By Allah’s grace we will be saved.”
This is no longer the spoils of war I’m hearing. This is something worse.
Merlin’s spirit is caged in an iron vault in Jerusalem, anchored to the ground by Azur’s alchemy and the part of the sorcerer still yearning to be a man. A necessary confinement Merlin would agree to, surely, lest his uncontrollable, dragonesque soul were to attack his old friend or others. I don’t know how Azur will return Merlin to his physical body, and I’m not sure I want to.
Azur turns quickly as though to prevent an ambush. “Merlin is drunk with magic and refusing to cooperate.” His eyes turn fierce. “It is nearly impossible. By interfering, I might be damning him to a limbo not of this world, and he was already at risk for a month, when the demon inside him managed to find freedom. Now, with these attacks, I am not as strong a man as I once was. But leave this to Lancelot and the Druids warriors. You, with the coordinates to Avalon, cannot leave Camelot.”
“Riders!” comes from the gates. I pull back to look upon the citadel, where a messenger bearing the rustand-ivory colored garments of Sarpenic arrives, calling to the few guards left. One guard runs for the main castle. “Rogues have overtaken Jerusalem!”
And so now Lancelot will know, even though word from the Holy Land never made it here. Though knights from Camelot are lost or missing or seeking our subjects with the kingdoms of España and Caledonia, the Druid warriors are allied with Jerusalem and will surely help. Perhaps Azur is right, though, and the coordinates in my mind would render me a more interesting capture than Jerusalem itself.
But then I can search for Marcus and Owen. If the rogues are attacking Jerusalem, there might not be many on the Grail quest. The news about this attack will serve as a way out of this decrepit castle unseen, but if I am sent away first, I can do nothing.
My hands tremble as the bravery I need comes over me. “Azur. I won’t sit here, useless—”
“Vivienne, I cannot teach you how to create jaseemat . The line between alchemy and magic might not be as distinct as I originally thought. It could very well be a border drawn in the sands, now gone up in a wind storm.”
My thoughts race back to how many times I’ve touched jaseemat , so close to how my gloved hand feels when pressed against the Norwegian steel, singing into my skin a song so alluring.
Azur continues, “Now that I have had the chance to study the fall of Lyonesse, I have learned alchemy might be the darkest path to magic!”
I grip the edges of the looking glass. “No. Alchemy is instruction to the elements, not something that would tarnish souls—”
“According to alchemy! Believe the liar, Vivienne, and I will show you the fool!”
There’s another cry behind him, and it could very well be that Merlin’s only gotten worse, a shimmer of his form thrashing against the iron vault, begging for opium and magic. His mind might no longer be in limbo, but completely gone, dead. Morgan might have stolen his very being.
“I must go now,” Azur says. “Or he might free himself—”
“Wait!”
But Azur disappears, and I drop Merlin’s looking glass.
It shatters into an ocean of jagged edges.
FIVE
I stare blankly at the broken glass. My breath is stuttered, and when I take a deep breath, it releases as a sob. My fingers fly to cover my mouth. Warm tears slice my cheeks into freezing glaciers in this wintery haven at the very thought of never speaking with Azur again. Not only that: I’m chained to this spot with no way of finding instructions to create jaseemat in Merlin’s writings. Blast.
Blast, blast, blast!
I breathe in an ugly way, inhaling the cold air and slamming the heel of my boot into the
This is no longer the spoils of war I’m hearing. This is something worse.
Merlin’s spirit is caged in an iron vault in Jerusalem, anchored to the ground by Azur’s alchemy and the part of the sorcerer still yearning to be a man. A necessary confinement Merlin would agree to, surely, lest his uncontrollable, dragonesque soul were to attack his old friend or others. I don’t know how Azur will return Merlin to his physical body, and I’m not sure I want to.
Azur turns quickly as though to prevent an ambush. “Merlin is drunk with magic and refusing to cooperate.” His eyes turn fierce. “It is nearly impossible. By interfering, I might be damning him to a limbo not of this world, and he was already at risk for a month, when the demon inside him managed to find freedom. Now, with these attacks, I am not as strong a man as I once was. But leave this to Lancelot and the Druids warriors. You, with the coordinates to Avalon, cannot leave Camelot.”
“Riders!” comes from the gates. I pull back to look upon the citadel, where a messenger bearing the rustand-ivory colored garments of Sarpenic arrives, calling to the few guards left. One guard runs for the main castle. “Rogues have overtaken Jerusalem!”
And so now Lancelot will know, even though word from the Holy Land never made it here. Though knights from Camelot are lost or missing or seeking our subjects with the kingdoms of España and Caledonia, the Druid warriors are allied with Jerusalem and will surely help. Perhaps Azur is right, though, and the coordinates in my mind would render me a more interesting capture than Jerusalem itself.
But then I can search for Marcus and Owen. If the rogues are attacking Jerusalem, there might not be many on the Grail quest. The news about this attack will serve as a way out of this decrepit castle unseen, but if I am sent away first, I can do nothing.
My hands tremble as the bravery I need comes over me. “Azur. I won’t sit here, useless—”
“Vivienne, I cannot teach you how to create jaseemat . The line between alchemy and magic might not be as distinct as I originally thought. It could very well be a border drawn in the sands, now gone up in a wind storm.”
My thoughts race back to how many times I’ve touched jaseemat , so close to how my gloved hand feels when pressed against the Norwegian steel, singing into my skin a song so alluring.
Azur continues, “Now that I have had the chance to study the fall of Lyonesse, I have learned alchemy might be the darkest path to magic!”
I grip the edges of the looking glass. “No. Alchemy is instruction to the elements, not something that would tarnish souls—”
“According to alchemy! Believe the liar, Vivienne, and I will show you the fool!”
There’s another cry behind him, and it could very well be that Merlin’s only gotten worse, a shimmer of his form thrashing against the iron vault, begging for opium and magic. His mind might no longer be in limbo, but completely gone, dead. Morgan might have stolen his very being.
“I must go now,” Azur says. “Or he might free himself—”
“Wait!”
But Azur disappears, and I drop Merlin’s looking glass.
It shatters into an ocean of jagged edges.
FIVE
I stare blankly at the broken glass. My breath is stuttered, and when I take a deep breath, it releases as a sob. My fingers fly to cover my mouth. Warm tears slice my cheeks into freezing glaciers in this wintery haven at the very thought of never speaking with Azur again. Not only that: I’m chained to this spot with no way of finding instructions to create jaseemat in Merlin’s writings. Blast.
Blast, blast, blast!
I breathe in an ugly way, inhaling the cold air and slamming the heel of my boot into the
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