Chapter 19 #2
Centuries ago, Dinas Emrys had been a magnificent tower, surrounded by thick stone ramparts.
All that was left now were these three stone walls.
There wasn’t much left of the tower either.
Only an uneven circle of stones within the enclosure made by the ramparts.
What had once been an imposing spire, meant to intimidate enemies, was now just a cluster of rocks, worn away by rain, dirt, and time.
But it wasn’t the castle itself that Edith believed they were here for.
Just beyond the ruin, at the base of a little hillside, was a pool. It was the shape of a rough-hewn oval. Nestled into tufts of long grass, it would be easy to miss if you were just walking by, unaware that a legend had been born in this very place.
“This is it?” Thomasin asked, her footsteps beating a path through the grass.
Edith nodded, her voice lost.
Before King Arthur had even been born, there had been a different king: Vortigern.
He’d set out to build his castle on this land.
But every morning, he would wake to find that whatever progress had been made on its construction had fallen apart overnight.
The men would spend all day laying stone and building the foundation, only to have to start over and do the same thing the next day.
Over and over again, no matter what craftsmen he hired, no matter what stones he used, the tower never lasted for long.
The foundation would crumble and take the rest of the castle with it.
His wise men told him he must find a child born without a father, and that this child’s blood must be spilled in order to appease the land.
Vortigern was not a kind man, and so he had no crisis of conscience about this course of action.
Eventually, a boy named Merlin was brought to the castle to be sacrificed.
There were rumors that he had been fathered by the devil himself, and Vortigern seemed to think that having Satan for a father was close enough to having no father.
But Merlin proved he was far more useful alive than dead.
Just before the blade was drawn across his neck, he delivered a prophecy.
He told Vortigern that the reason his foundation kept crumbling was that there was a hidden cistern beneath the hill, and in those murky waters there lived two dragons, slumbering peacefully.
A red dragon, and a white dragon.
Vortigern dug into the hill at once, determined to see whether or not Merlin was right.
Sure enough, he found the pool and the dragons.
But the sunlight woke them, and they began to fight.
After a long and arduous battle, the red dragon claimed victory, ousting the white dragon, who disappeared completely.
The second the Round Table in Winchester had revealed the picture of the circling dragons, Edith knew the next clue had to be at Dinas Emrys. This was the origin of Merlin, the first time he had wielded his magic. Here, he had set himself on the path that would take him to King Arthur’s side.
“It’s smaller than I thought it’d be. You said two dragons, right? This looks hardly big enough for a goat to kick around in,” Thomasin said.
Edith smiled at the mention of goats. They had encountered a mountain goat on their way up the hill and had lost a good hour of daylight trying to coax it toward them with scraps of bread.
One comment from Edith about how cute it was, and next thing she knew, Thomasin was determined to get the creature within petting range. They never did manage it.
“It’s deeper than it looks,” Edith said, leaning over the edge, her feet gripping the moist dirt at the edge of the pond.
There was about an arm’s-length drop from the lip of the pool to the waterline.
The ground beneath her was sloshy, mud sucking at her shoes, and she really didn’t want to slip and fall into the water.
But then it occurred to her that that was exactly what they would need to do.
If Edith were to hide a clue here, she would put it at the bottom of the pool, right where the legendary dragons had slept.
The painting on the Round Table was of the red and white dragons, which meant that it was them they needed to follow.
When Edith told Thomasin as much, a flicker of excitement sparked in the other woman’s eyes, and she shrugged off her jacket without any objections.
Thomasin bent over and unlaced her boots, while Edith left her satchel in Jay’s care.
She didn’t know when they had decided that only Thomasin and Edith would actually venture into the sites of each clue, but it had somehow become the established thing.
Edith wasn’t arguing. It felt right, just the two of them.
Before handing her bag over, she slipped out the urn and held it to her chest. She didn’t want to say that she hugged the urn, because that felt pathetic and odd, but there really was no other way to describe it.
Her fingers clenched around the strap, fighting her brain’s command to release the satchel to Jay. Sensing this inner struggle, Jay smiled and said, “I’ll guard it with my life.”
“You’re far too nice to me.” Edith forced herself to let go, not letting herself linger as Jay slung the bag carefully over his shoulder.
Edith returned to Thomasin, who was shivering now, her naked toes wiggling in the cold mud. Edith followed suit, kicking off her shoes one by one. Thomasin ducked her head for a quick kiss, which left Edith’s mind comfortably, contentedly blank.
Before she could realize that had likely been the point, Thomasin clasped her hand and faced the pool. Not giving Edith any time to fear the cold, or the murky bog, or whatever creatures might live within, Thomasin winked and said, “For Merlin.”
Hand in hand, they dove into the water.