9. Arthur
Chapter nine
Arthur
I was free. Finally free
L ight filtering through a nearby window woke me, and I cracked open my eyes to find a rather large flower spinning on the ceiling above me. My eyes squinted shut once more, confused, but when I opened them again, the odd flower thing continued to twirl round and round and—
I groaned deep in my chest as a wave of dizziness rolled through me. Cutting my view away from the flower, I found... several gazes upon me.
My feet dangled off the end of the small bed I now found myself in, and I scrambled to a seated position as I took in my surroundings and searched for possible exits.
There were two doors and two windows, though I couldn’t be sure which door could lend me a hand in my escape if it came to that.
But then my gaze landed upon him . On Will.
All thoughts of escape fled my mind because he was here. He was here .
He sat at the end of my bed, a white cloth held in his hand. In a bowl at his side were several blood-soaked rags. His black shirt hung loose over his lean torso, and he wore blue pants of a material I wasn’t familiar with.
Several cuts slashed across his face, still in the process of healing. His expression was weary, and concern held his gaze captive upon me.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. So much softer than I could ever recall it. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”
He was so much brighter in reality. His hair was glossy and rumpled, his skin pale and smooth, and those eyes .
They were such a vivid blue.
Slowly, I relaxed.
“Are you,” Will cleared his throat, “are you feeling all right?”
My throat felt raw, and though I tried to speak, the pain was too much.
Will must have realized the problem because he met the eyes of a younger man with purple hair and nodded to a tray laden with several saucers and fine dishware. “Otto, will you bring over the tea? I think he’s thirsty.” As the other man, Otto, who also had metal pierced through his ears, eyebrows, nose, and lips hurried to grab the tray, Will returned his focus to me. “We can get you some water as well. But I think the tea will actually help your throat because we added honey,” he explained.
Since I couldn’t respond, I accepted a cup steaming with herbaceous tea with slightly trembling fingers. I didn’t know why they shook, though. I wasn’t afraid anymore.
Some of the liquid spilled over my fingers, but I could barely feel it.
Nodding my thanks, I took a moment to consider that the tea might be poisoned but decided the risk to be worth it. Especially considering the risks this group went through to rescue me.
Taking a large swallow of the liquid, I tasted hints of floral and something sweet like berries.
Will and the others gasped in what sounded like alarm, but I barely heard them as I gulped down the tea, desperate to calm this fire in my throat.
“That tea was piping hot,” I heard Otto mutter to the elderly woman in the room. “And he downed it like it was nothing!”
“Psh, like it’s hard,” said a cat sitting primly by the window.
And I didn’t under—
Wait. Cat’s didn’t talk .
My eyes snapped back to the cat, and the beast inside me woke with a territorial growl, recognizing the cat for what it truly was.
Another demon.
The cat’s eyes glowed a sharp orange, and he grinned at me with small, pointy teeth as if fully aware of my inner demon, and liked how his presence riled my fiend.
My vision flickered red, and prickles of pain crawled up my arms. The cup shook violently in my hands, and if there’d been any liquid still within, it would have sloshed over the side again.
“Hey, relax,” Will said, taking my now empty cup with wide eyes. And then the oddest, but glorious thing happened. When his hands brushed against mine, a burst of calm washed through me, settling my intense rage.
The next time I blinked, the creature was once more lurking in its cage.
Well, that was unexpected.
Will squinted at me in curiosity. “Huh, that’s interesting.”
I stared down at my hands, still racked with trembles. Slowly, Will reached out to take my left hand in both of his. With utter gentleness, he stroked his fingers over my skin.
And the most peculiar thing happened.
The beast purred.
“Do you remember what happened?” Will asked, unaware of the magnitude of this moment.
But then his words registered.
Blood and stone. Death and magic.
I focused on Will’s thumb, finding it easier to breathe with him touching me. The relief, after so long in pain, was overwhelming. I held as still as I could, hoping he didn’t stop. Because going so long without human touch had apparently left me starved for physical contact.
“Yes,” I said in a low, hoarse voice. Clearing my throat, I added, “I remember everything.”
This seemed to relieve Will and the others, but I couldn’t say I shared the sentiment. Because for so long, my past was all I could think upon to keep me sane. For so long, I relived the events that led to my stone imprisonment over and over until I thought I’d go mad. For so long...
My heart clenched.
“How long?” I asked, my voice a strained whisper. “How much time has passed?”
He bit into his bottom lip, and it was almost enough to distract me from his reply, “About 1,500 years.”
No. No, that couldn’t be right.
But as my gaze roamed around the room, taking in so many unfamiliar baubles and trinkets and studying their unusual clothing, I remembered how I’d been connected to Merlin’s magic when he’d turned me to stone, and how I’d been forced to witness through the eyes of strangers as the years drifted on.
But if so much time had passed, then that meant my people, my knights, Guinevere...
Grief threatened to choke me as those thoughts rose unbidden.
No, no, no!
“You must be mistaken,” I said, ripping my hand away. Each of my breaths came out rapid and harsh now, and my heart felt as though it would sprout wings and leap straight from my chest.
Because what he said couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.
“Arthur,” Will said with concern, reaching for me like a child who needed coddling.
My anger flared, and the beast roared hot and furious within. I leapt to my feet, my curse whipping around me like violent tendrils. But the moment my feet touched the floor, I staggered under my own weight.
Will muttered an unfamiliar word as he jumped to catch me. But I was several heads taller than he and almost double his weight. So instead of helping, he ended up tripping over my foot and ramming headfirst into my chest.
My arms came around him as we toppled to the floor, and I groaned as my tender muscles took another beating.
“Well, at least we now know he’s still cursed,” the older woman said, rocking in her chair as she observed us.
I frowned at her as Will attempted to right himself. “Of course I’m cursed. I have yet to drink from the Grail.”
She waved her hand at me before motioning her cane at Will. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about my grandson.”
Her grandson? Then I glanced around the room, taking in the features of those crowding in on us and realized, “You’re family.” Then the other part of what she’d said struck me, and I frowned at Will as he finally managed to stand from the floor, glaring at his feet as if they’d insulted him. “You’re cursed?” I frowned further. “Like me?”
“Our curses aren’t the same,” Will said, rubbing his forehead. “I just have really poor luck.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
The man, Will’s father, I presumed, came forward and thumped me on my shoulder. “Trust me. You’ll understand soon enough.”
Will glared at the man but held his hand low for me to grasp and help me to my feet. The moment our hands touched, that rush of calm flooded me again. Only this time, he held our hands up so I could see the backs of them.
Mirrored on our skin were matching marks.
How had I never seen that mark before? I racked my brain for any memory of it, and then I remembered that burning pain as Merlin had made his vows.
It all clicked into place as I studied Will once more. “You are of Merlin’s blood.”
Everything made sense now. Why I’d been shown his face. His magic was tied to Merlin’s through their shared bloodline. Merlin vowed on his blood—
“Apparently.” Will shrugged, appearing unsettled by my scrutiny. He cleared his throat as he gestured to the young man from earlier. “Arthur, this is my younger brother, Otto.”
Otto gave me a single nod. “’Sup.” Will elbowed him in the side, and Otto winced as he croaked, “’Sup, Your Majesty?”
Sighing, Will waved over at the older man and woman standing close together. “These are our raisins, Vincent and Dorothy.”
Raisins? Was that a new term for parents?
“And that’s—”
Before Will could finish speaking, the eldest in the room, a woman with short, gray hair sitting in a polished rocking chair said, “And I’m Nana Joanne.” She tapped a wooden cane resting on her thighs. “We met briefly last night.”
I sat on the edge of the bed once more. “We did?”
She nodded, pointing a finger at the back of her head. “Yes.”
I winced, and a phantom throb started up in my head as I made sense of her words. I glared at the dastardly thing with more clarity, remembering the smack to the back of my skull when I was...
My gaze snapped to Will’s throat, finally recalling how my hand had circled his neck before I’d been knocked unconscious.
Before I could speak though, Will’s father stepped forward.
“My King,” Vincent greeted, bowing so low that his nose nearly swept the floor, and Will wiped a hand over his face, groaning something too low for me to hear. “We’ve come to help you find the Holy Grail. With your assistance, I think we might actually have a chance of finding it.”
“That is all well and good,” I said, trying not to show my disappointment now that I realized they didn’t have the Grail, “but I don’t have the faintest idea where it is.”
Everyone in the room exchanged a look, one I wasn’t privy to, then Will said carefully, “Before we rescued you, I was given a prophecy.”
“What was the prophecy?”
He repeated it for me, and I frowned as I tried to understand it.
“In order to find the Grail, we need to locate Merlin’s Treasures Thirteen. I’ve Seen where they are, but I don’t know where those locations are exactly. Not all of them, at least. We’ve compiled a list of potential locations, though.” Will pointed to his chest, then around the small gathering. “I—we—were hoping you might recognize some of the places.”
“I might.” Once again, I glanced around at all the unusual things in the room. Like the spinning flower above us. “Though, since I’ve been gone for so long,” I said carefully, my throat aching at the thought, “it’s possible the places I remember might look very different now.”
“How is it you’re able to speak this well?” Nana Joanne asked, suspicion in her tone.
I frowned down at my hands, flexing my fingers. “My body might have been frozen, but my mind was not. Whatever magic Merlin cast upon me linked me to him, and therefore, his kin. Over the many years I picked up their language through the countless visions of their lives forced upon me. Though, despite learning their language, I admit that there are times when words still elude or confuse me.”
The older gentleman, Vincent, looked shocked. “You watched their lives unfold?”
I shook my head, frustrated that I was struggling so much with explaining. But words were hard, especially after so many years of solitude. “Not quite, no. I was only given brief visions of them. It took me a long time to recognize why I kept seeing these strangers. To make the connection between them and Merlin.”
“Wow,” Will breathed.
“I’m still quite unfamiliar with this new world,” I admitted, picking up a small block of wood with unfamiliar script. Because though I could understand much of what was said thanks to the many years of watching and listening, I still couldn’t read their language. “Most of your ancestors were hermits.”
Will reached past me, and I noticed for the first time what ring he wore.
Visions from the past rushed to the forefront of my mind, forcing a cry from my lips.
A woman in her 20s shouted in alarm as birds dark as pitch swarmed her, their beaks and talons merciless against her soft skin. She attempted to block them from reaching her, casting a bubble of magic around herself. But the ravens pierced through her magic with ease, and though her screams lasted mere seconds, even after they’d died off, their echoes lived on in my ears.
In another, a young boy of no more than 12 brushed his fingers over the tops of some tall grass, and the grass seemed to reach for his touch. He trekked through the endless trees surrounding him, wandering aimlessly. From the forest’s shadows came the hint of a woman’s form, and she beckoned the boy closer with a deceivingly kind smile. Behind her, hidden from the boy’s view, was an abrupt, fatally-high crag.
In the next, an old and unkempt man with wet, graying brown hair plastered around his face stood in some shallow water at the bottom of a sealed well. He blasted his magic over and over at the circular slab of stone imprisoning him, trying with all his might to shift the massive cover, but it wouldn’t move. A harsh, yet tinkling laugh echoed against the stones of his tomb.
Death, death, death... It was everywhere. Behind every final blink, in each rattling breath, charging the last screams.
“Arthur?”
I shook my head, as my teeth lengthened and pierced my bottom lip. But not even the taste of my blood brought me out of the memories.
My vision was a sea of crimson, and I was drowning, unable to breathe. My blood burned, heating my already too-hot skin.
But then I felt pressure against my face, and a tide of tranquility flowed through me, cooling me.
I sucked in a desperate breath as my vision cleared, and there he was. Will, gazing down at me with concern. His hand was cupped around my cheek and jaw as he waited for me to calm myself.
When it seemed like I wasn’t about to turn into a demonic beast, Will’s shoulders relaxed. “You with me, Arthur?”
“Yes,” I croaked.
And he smiled, momentarily stunning me. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
And it hit me how true his words really were. That I was honestly here. With him.
I was free. Finally free.