Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) Read Online Free PDF

except…” He paused looking at me as though unsure if he should reveal any more information.
    “Except what?” I pressed; he couldn’t leave me hanging like this. 
    He looked back at the book, tracing the old cover, “Well , see, Morgaina, Arthur’s half-sister, hated Arthur and all that his knights stood for so she vanquished him…”
    “Why?” I cut in, clutching my camera a bit too tightly, fighting against the desperate feeling to check on the painting again to make sure it was still intact.
    “She was a very wicked person, a sorceress to be specific. The most powerful one Britain had seen since Alaricus during the Roman rule. She was jealous and angry, scornful that her mother had married Uther—who not only fathered Arthur, but also was the man who killed her own father. She carried a grudge till the end of her days. She hated Arthur and his knights with such vigor that she did everything she could to destroy them.”
    It was frustrating to hear of that witch destroying such a gorgeous creature. “If Brendelon and Arthur were cousins, wouldn’t that make Brendelon and Morgaina cousins as well?”
    “No, Brendelon is the son of Uther’s younger sister, Ravenna. Morgaina’s father was Gorlois, Lord of Tintigal.”
    For a moment , I forgot myself. I was so entwined in the story that I found myself actually believing it. Arthur was a legend and so were all of his knights for that matter. Brendelon was not real, and the conclusion wound my heart into a tight ball.
    “Isn’t it all just myth and legend?” I asked.
    “Depends on what you believe.” He smiled slyly at me and his eyes twinkled with secrets. “There definitely was a time where black magic, sorceresses, and mystical creatures existed. The realm was very different—from the people and creatures that roamed to even the layout of the lands. As Arthur and his knights crusaded to put an end to these evil doings, the supernatural sphere became smaller and smaller until it almost completely perished along with all that was in it, paving the way for the Britain that you now read of in history books.”
    “Why don’t people believe Arthur was real then?”
    “When he was killed by Mordred, his body was sent to Avalon—the last place to remain in the mystical realm—and all that is left are his stories. The world changed, and the land he lived in has become unfathomable, becoming nothing more than a myth as you would say.”
    I wished I could believe him; I felt like a child with a heart that still wanted to believe in Santa Claus but whose brain argued the facts that could not support such silly fantasies. 
    Mr. Riley’s phone rang. He put up one finger, motioning for me to give him a quick minute. “Hello,” he answered. He listened for a brief moment. “Sure, sure,” he mumbled before ending the call. “Sorry Katarina, I have to help Melissa with something in the front. You’re more than welcome to look around. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    “Sure, no proble m.” I smiled because I knew exactly where I’d be looking. I pretended to look through some of the artifacts as he walked away, quickly glancing to my side to make sure he was gone before I headed down to the familiar hallway, so excited I could hardly contain myself.
    I stared at the tattered curtain that hid the secret prince, and it felt like I was about to open a present. I slowly pulled it back to expose that glorious face. And there he was, same as before: dark eyes glooming with that contradicting grin that held secrets I couldn’t even fathom. It still mystified me, and unbelievably his face was more beautiful than I had remembered. I imagined him fighting with grace and ease in some heroic battle like I had heard in stories, distracting his enemies with his looks and charm, and somehow I felt comforted at the thoughts of him being lively, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of it.
    “So you found him.”
    I spun around coming face-to-face with