Chapter 5
Five
I sprinted through the forest and up a switchback pass.
I kept checking over my shoulder, fearful the sisterhood was lurking in the trees, ready to ensnare me.
Several times I fell and scraped myself, but soon I was standing at the base of the mountain, higher up than I’d ever been.
From this new vantage, I could see more islands.
Our archipelago stretched farther than I’d previously imagined.
It was a hot evening. Insects clanged. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I trusted Elinor.
She had taken a risk by sending me here, summoning generosity I hadn’t deserved.
I explored the base of the mountain, searching for hints of the sisterhood’s magic, but found nothing.
Hours passed, my frustration grew, and night fell.
At a waterfall I washed away the blood and dirt on my arms and cupped my hands to drink.
Bats swooped above me, carving angles into the low-hanging moon.
Behind the waterfall I noticed a cave that might offer shelter.
I climbed in, but a strange gust of wind caught me off guard.
It seemed to be coming from the wrong direction, as if the cave itself were exhaling.
Perhaps this was not a cave at all, I reasoned, but a passageway.
Curious, and a little nervous, I ventured deeper. And then I gasped.
Before me breathed a sunken lagoon.
Never had the sisterhood mentioned that the mountain had a crater, let alone a shimmering lake, open beneath the stars.
The thin beach was shaped like a crescent, and the water emanated a pale blue light.
Vines and flowers curtained the rock wall, and their aroma encased me, a scent at once earthy and ethereal.
I knew instantly that this was what Elinor had wanted me to find.
Giddy, I raced to the lake’s edge and dipped my toes. The water was soft and unctuous, warmer than I’d anticipated. I removed my clothes, submerged myself fully, and felt my muscles relax.
At the time, I had no idea that when the bards sang of Viviana, they often sang of this lagoon. That her very nickname, the Lady of the Lake, was known the world over. All I knew then, as I took in the first hints of starlight, was that this was a sacred place.
I was floating on my back, gazing up at the stars, when I heard a commotion. A stream of bubbles was rising from the center of the lakebed. Strange, I thought. Did the lagoon have air vents? The water, up until now, had been still.
A bolt of fear shot through me. Was there a creature in the lake I hadn’t seen? Had Elinor sent me here as an elaborate punishment? I was about to scramble out of the water, when, through the bubbles, a gold light emerged.
Confused, I peered under the surface. The lake was deepest at the center, and it was hard to see all the way down, but there appeared to be a gold object jutting from the floor.
Pushing through fear, I took a deep breath and dove under. As I pulled closer to the source of light, the object became clear. It was a gold sword.
I’d never seen a weapon on the island, never so much as gripped a pommel.
Yet even as my lungs tightened, I found myself drawn to it.
With nervous excitement, I wrapped my hands around the hilt, attempting to remove it from the lakebed.
But as I tugged and strained, the sword wouldn’t move.
I tried pulling it from different angles, to no avail.
I was nearly out of breath, about to release my grip, when suddenly I was encased in a blinding glow—like lightning, but painless.
The lake itself seemed to shake, as if warning me to release the sword. But instinct told me to hold on.
My lungs began to relax. I no longer seemed to have a need for air. As the bubbles swirled around me, I pictured them pulling my stray thoughts up with them, until my mind went completely blank.
That’s when the vision appeared. At first the images were fuzzy. Quick disparate flashes, their meaning just out of reach. But then a woman came into focus.
She was lying in bed, surrounded by attendants. In one hand she clutched a small satchel. In the other she held the mound of her belly. Her hair was the color of grain and her skin was blanched with sweat.
The sword’s knowledge passed seamlessly into my mind. I somehow knew that this woman was Elaine of Benoic. This was my birth mother, on the night of my birth.
It was a hot summer night, and I could taste smoke in the air.
I watched my mother’s attendants flock around her, adorning the walls with calming tapestries and opening a single window out of ritual.
Outside I could hear screams and hoofbeats.
My heart sunk. I was watching my mother in labor, but I was also stepping into her thoughts, soaking up her memories and emotions.
She was a queen. She had a sister, who was also a queen. But someone named King Claudas had killed her sister, just a few days before, along with her sister’s husband, King Bors.
The names and faces cascaded through me, working their way into my blood. My mother and aunt had married brothers—kings. They’d had a joint wedding, and I could see it now, the huge smiles, the doves released into the air, the feast, the music. For a long time all four of them had been very happy.
But now, as she lay in labor, the city was under attack. I could see soldiers outside the castle gates, and I could sense my mother’s hatred for King Claudas, her primal fear. She sent the attendants away, even the midwife.
As these scenes flowed through me, I felt the urge to let go of the sword and swim to the surface.
I could sense my mother’s blinding love for me as she strained to give me life.
Clinging to the sword, I knew I was both the source of that love and its object.
It was the most powerful force I had ever encountered.
Elaine somehow got to her feet. The pain was blinding, but she needed to escape. Just then the door crashed open.
Ban! You’re alive.
I knew this man to be my father. I recognized my face in his.
I moved with my parents into the crypt. My father was heavily wounded, but he still carried my mother down the stairs. Soldiers were knocking down the castle’s portcullis.
My mother and father maneuvered through the sarcophagi, looking for a tomb with a hidden tunnel. The tunnel opened to a small beach, where a boat, if they were lucky, would be tethered to a post.
I watched, heartsick, as my father’s wounds overcame him and he collapsed. With his dying breath he urged my mother on. She kept moving until she found the tunnel, her legs soaked in blood.
When she finally made it to the beach there was no boat.
She collapsed into the sand. She’d lost too much blood. She was still clutching the satchel. I couldn’t tell what was in it.
Just as I entered the world, an orb of light appeared on the beach.
Viviana. A memory cut through the scene.
My mother, Elaine, on the Isle of Women.
A younger Viviana, a much younger Elinor greeting her at the shore.
There were other people there, too, a woman and a young man.
They all seemed to know each other. They seemed like friends.
Back on the beach, where my mother lay dying, Viviana approached her. She took me in her arms as my mother breathed her last. She kissed my mother on the cheek, crying.
In the dying flashes of my mother’s thoughts, her mind returned to a happier memory. Men and women in fine clothes sat around a candlelit table. They were celebrating. Elaine sat next to her sister, whose two young boys were pulling at her sleeves.
These boys, I realized, with a tug, had been my cousins. Before King Claudas came and killed them, they were my kin.
Elaine rubbed her belly beneath the table. She leaned over, cupping her sister’s ear, and it was like my mother was whispering to me.
We’ve picked out a name, she said.
My spine shuddered. Her words tickled my earlobe.
If it’s a boy, and I’m certain it is, he will be Lancelot.
I kicked to the surface, my heart stammering. How long had I been underwater with my family’s memories flowing through me? I swam to the little shoreline and collapsed on the sand. The sun was rising but the moon was still a wedge in the sky.
I have a name, I thought, the revelation coursing through me.
My name is Lancelot.
I stood, ready for my life to begin.