Chapter 40
Maeve was beginning to suspect the spell book enjoyed causing problems, it was either the book or the Gate, she was yet to determine which one. It wasn’t little problems either. Not “oops the tea exploded” problems.
No, it was life-altering, reality-bending, and potentially catastrophic problems. Which, admittedly, did make it more fun. The new spell room glowed softly around her, Merlin’s Gate pulsing faint blue-green beneath the cavern floor while candles flickered along the stone walls.
Arietta and Isabeau had gone upstairs to “grab snacks”.
Maeve had not trusted the suspicious amount of whispering involved in that announcement.
Still, that left her alone with the spell.
Righting the Wrong.
The page shimmered faintly beneath her fingers as she reread the final lines for perhaps the tenth time.
Everything else had already been prepared; the grounding sigils were done, the protection circles were protecting, honestly, she was feeling extremely professional about the whole thing.
Maeve reached for the final ingredients laid neatly beside the small well connected directly to Merlin’s Gate.
Amethyst crystal chips.
Rose oil.
And fragments of Kraken eggshell gathered carefully after the recent hatchings. The moment she dropped the crystal chips into the glowing water, the Gate stirred and magic pulsed outward softly.
Maeve smiled at the reaction and tipped in the rose oil next. The scent bloomed instantly through the cavern, floral and warm, reminding her of her mum. Then, finally, she added the eggshell fragments and watched as the waters glowed brighter.
With a deep inhale followed by a heavy exhale, Maeve began reciting the spell.
“From guardians new, to magics old,” she recited carefully, voice echoing softly through the cavern. “Merlin’s Gate deep within our fold.”
The waters stirred, like someone was stirring it with a giant teaspoon and the magics of the Gate crackled faintly beneath the floor.
Maeve frowned slightly, because the spell suddenly felt… heavy and older than she expected.
“Right the wrong that once performed,” she continued slowly.
The lights in the cavern flickered violently and the Gate pulsed harder, faster. Almost strobe-like. Magic surged outward, fast enough to lift her hair from her shoulders.
Maeve’s stomach dipped uneasily. Okay, that felt slightly concerning. Still, it was too late to stop now.
“Bring back that what was once mourned.” She recited the final part and was met by intense silence… seconds ticked by and Maeve waited. She sighed loudly. “Well that obviously didn’t work,” she muttered… then the Gate exploded with power.
CRASH!!!
Maeve stumbled backward as blue-green light erupted from the water in violent spirals, magic whipping through the cavern like a storm.
“What in the hell…”
The pulse intensified, getting faster and faster, making the very walls of Merlin’s Gate tremble.
And then…
CRACK.
The sound thundered through the caverns loud enough to shake dust from the ceiling. Maeve’s eyes widened.
“Oh no, it’s coming down… what have I done?”
Another crack echoed and then another, the magic spiralling through the Gate turning wild instantly. Maeve bolted upright from her chair.
“Arietta!” she screamed. “Isabeau!” Her hands covered her head in case something fell, not that it would do much good.
No answer… probably because the cavern had just sounded like reality splitting in half.
Maeve sprinted from the spell room toward the main cavern of Merlin’s Gate, boots skidding slightly across wet stone. More cracking echoed ahead and the air hummed with ancient power as Maeve burst into the main cavern and froze.
“OH MY GOD!.”
The enormous body of glowing water at the centre of Merlin’s Gate churned violently, but that wasn’t what stole her breath.
The memorial statue of Maximus stood cracked clean down the middle, or rather, what remained of it. The stone split apart slowly with grinding echoes through the cavern, and something moved within it. Maeve stared, shock and awe held her in its grip.
“No bloody way.”
The stone collapsed outward suddenly, as if pushed into the water below, and there, lying motionless upon the submerged platform beneath where the statue had stood, was a figure. A human. A very human male… and very naked.
Maeve blinked rapidly.
“Seriously?”
Footsteps thundered behind her as Arietta and Isabeau finally arrived carrying crisps and what appeared to be three chocolate bars. “What exploded?” Arietta demanded.
Isabeau stopped dead beside her. All three witches stared at the platform.
Silence reigned for seconds until…
“Is that…” Arietta started slowly.
“Yeah,” Maeve said faintly. “I think it might be.”
Isabeau looked horrified. “But how?”
Maeve shook her head. “Not a clue.”
The figure shifted faintly atop the submerged stone and groaned loudly as he tried to move.
It was impossible. The stranger slowly moved onto his hands and knees, long wet hair covering his face as he lifted it to look at the witches.
Bright blue eyes filled with confusion and pain looked back at them from a face that was almost familiar. Maeve swallowed hard.
“Oh Gods,” Arietta whispered.
The male groaned softly, still half-submerged beneath glowing Gate water.
Isabeau stared another second before sighing dramatically.
“But why,” she asked the universe at large, “are they always naked?”
The end… for now.