The Pendragon's Challenge (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 7) Read Online Free PDF

“How, by the way, are we going to reach the Otherworld?”
    “That wasn’t a question you thought to ask before you decided to come along?” Taliesin said.
    Grumble, grumble. “I’m asking it now—”
    But Goronwy was unable to finish his sentence because the earth shifted beneath their feet. Between one heartbeat and the next, instead of standing on the beaten dirt of the path, Taliesin found himself in a bowl-shaped cavern. Before him rose a light that blinded him at the same time that it pierced him to his core. Out of the light stepped the raven-haired goddess, Arianrhod. Her brother Gwydion, Taliesin’s patron, stood beside her. They were siblings—and looked it—with black hair and blue eyes, but to describe them thus was to do them a disservice. For their hair and eyes—and entire beings—were indescribable in their beauty. Taliesin’s mind, once given the task, shied away from it.
    He bowed. “My lady. My lord.”
    “Taliesin,” Gwydion said.
    Arianrhod held out a hand to the bard. Tentatively, Taliesin stepped forward, not daring to think that she wanted him to actually touch her. She didn’t drop her hand, however, and continued to regard him steadily, so he touched the tips of his fingers to hers. A shock passed through him, and his body vibrated from head to toe.
    Arianrhod nodded and dropped her hand.
    Taliesin bowed again, shivering though the evening air wasn’t cold. “Is it possible that I may serve you?”
    “You may,” Arianrhod said.
    Dread surged through him. Taliesin had said the words out of obedience, allegiance, and awe of the moment, hoping against hope that she would not take him up on his offer. What could a sidhe ask of a human, even one as old as Taliesin? Then, from within the light, another figure formed and stepped out from behind Arianrhod and Gwydion. Like his mother, he had transformed himself into the human conception of beauty, with the same black hair and blue eyes that marked him as a Celt, though he was no Celt. He was the god, Mabon.
    Taliesin’s jaw clenched. One could hardly speak of a god as having character—certainly Mabon was without a soul—but the absence of both in Mabon was a pronounced and dangerous weakness. Cade despised him, and Mabon knew of this disdain—and knew too that Cade’s companions shared his opinion. If Taliesin had allowed himself an opinion, he would have felt the same. As it was, he was a bard and a gweledydd , a seer, and such opinions were not a luxury he could afford. Still, few greater sins existed in the eyes of a sidhe than for a human to be anything but worshipful.
    Behind him, Taliesin heard Goronwy snort under his breath.
    Taliesin couldn’t see the knight, since Goronwy and Catrin stood together, somewhere near rim of the cavern, but Taliesin didn’t have to see Goronwy to feel the less than subtle mockery he was directing at Mabon. Taliesin would have turned and made a cutting motion with his hand, but he didn’t dare move or lift his eyes from the ground.
    “The council has spoken,” Arianrhod said. “My son must leave our world for a time and walk among you as one of you. I would ask that you look after him, Taliesin.”
    Indescribable horror filled Taliesin, and he lifted his head to gaze at the goddess, a protest on his lips. Goronwy could mock and make snide comments as he wished, but Taliesin could feel the power coming from Mabon and knew what a terrible threat to the human world he represented. In that moment, Taliesin couldn’t imagine a worse fate that being responsible for this wayward son of Cade’s patroness.
    Sidhe didn’t live by the same rules as humans did. Some genuinely cared for humanity, but they were ultimately accountable only to the ruler of the gods, Beli, and his council, upon which both Gwydion and Arianrhod sat. For most, the threat of banishment was the only thing keeping them in line and had to substitute for an actual sense of morality. Mabon had defied them and was now paying the