Chapter 6
Mordred had been gone when Lamorna woke that morning.
She didn’t have to think too hard to figure out where.
He was with Alden, where he had been a lot since the Cruithean had arrived.
She knew Mordred was dealing with the death of his mother and he needed his friend, but she could not help the little worm that burrowed inside her whenever she saw them together.
She hoped Alden would leave, and soon. He was distracting Mordred from his task.
The castle had fallen into a strangely suspended state, no one knowing what to do.
Mordred’s revelations the night of his mother’s funeral had rocked Dinas Emrys.
Calla had said that some people wanted to leave, but they hadn’t simply because they didn’t know where else to go.
Lamorna was afraid that all of Mordred’s hard work, everything he had done in Kernou to secure this place, was about to fall apart. She couldn’t let that happen.
She would let him grieve a little longer, and then she would remind him of his purpose.
Lamorna dressed in a simple tunic of soft grey, peering out the window as she combed her hair, her eyes shifting over the barren earth.
A cloud of dust was moving towards the castle.
Her hand dropped, the comb forgotten, as she watched two men on horseback ride beneath the battlements and into the castle yard.
She recognised Pellinore’s shining black coat, and her stomach twisted.
Mordred and Alden had been out riding. Lamorna’s jaw clenched as she took note of the casual, confident way Alden sat in the saddle. He and Mordred were talking. Lamorna lifted her hand in a wave, hoping Mordred would see her, but he didn’t shift his attention from his friend.
Lamorna’s stomach twisted further.
To distract herself, she went to the kitchen and organised a tray of tea and then went in search of Elaine.
The Red Sister intrigued her as much as she scared her, and Lamorna had decided she was not going to be scared of things she did not understand any longer, so she would make it her mission to get to know the mysterious blind woman.
She hadn’t let herself think about the last thing Elaine had said to her.
She placed her hand over her heart – she could feel it beating, so how could she be dead?
She didn’t remember dying and wasn’t even sure if what she’d seen in her head about her time in Lyonesse was real or the result of…
Lamorna didn’t know. All she was certain of was that she was here, she was alive, and she was set on making the best of things.
Nothing in Dinas Emrys was what she had thought it would be, but she was determined not to let any of it faze her. She was free of Kernou, free of the Chif and the Konsel and their horrible rules.
As she made her way to the room that had been organised for Elaine, the teapot and cups balanced carefully on the tray, Lamorna thought about the dragon beneath the castle.
She’d gone back there many times since the creature woke from its sleep.
The first time, she’d gone to see if the dragon was real and not something borne of her imagination.
She hadn’t gotten close to it, even though part of her had wanted to, watching it from a distance before going back upstairs.
The second time, she had woken during the night, pulled from her dreams by the scent of sulphur tickling her nose.
Mordred had been sleeping deeply, so she’d snuck out of bed, put on the red robe he’d given her, and crept through the dark castle without a torch.
She’d worried she would get lost, but she hadn’t.
The dragon had been awake also, as if it was waiting for her.
That time, she’d gone a little closer, so close that she could feel the heat from its body, like there was a fire inside of it.
She’d gone back several times more, when Mordred was busy or with Alden and she couldn’t find Calla.
Sometimes, Lamorna went to see the dragon because she was worried it was lonely down there, and each time, she could sense it had been waiting for her.
Was the dragon calling her to it? She told herself that was ridiculous, but up close, when she dared look, she was aware of an intelligence, a wisdom and a knowing in those bottomless reptilian eyes.
Sometimes she imagined she could hear the dragon’s voice in her head, but she knew that wasn’t possible.
Lamorna pushed all thoughts of the dragon and of Mordred from her mind when she reached Elaine’s door. The Red Sister was standing by the window when she went in, which Lamorna found odd. What could a blind woman see out there?
For a while, she stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to say, until Elaine turned to her and smiled. Her whole face changed when she smiled. She became less frightening and more… human. Normal. Not that Lamorna knew what that was.
‘I’ve brought us some tea,’ she said brightly.
‘Camomile, I think it is. There is no honey though, so I am sorry about that.’ Lamorna set the tray down on a small table.
There were two armchairs, the rose pattern on the fabric faded and worn with age, and she waited until Elaine had seated herself before she sat and poured the tea.
She could feel Elaine studying her and wondered what the woman could see with her magical eyes.
Mordred had told her Elaine was a Seer, that she could see things that had already happened and things that were yet to happen.
‘You want to know why.’ Elaine’s voice was low, rough. It seemed to Lamorna that the Red Sister must not speak very often.
Lamorna busied herself with her teacup. ‘Why what?’ she asked, feigning indifference. She did want to know – desperately – but wasn’t sure she should.
Elaine had not touched her tea.
‘You don’t like tea?’ Lamorna asked. She stood. ‘I can get you something else if you—’
‘Lamorna, sit,’ Elaine commanded. Lamorna did, thrusting her trembling hands in her lap. The Red Sister shook her head slightly, as if gathering her thoughts, deciding what she was going to say, but when she did finally speak, Lamorna was utterly disappointed with the answer.
‘The tea is fine.’
‘Oh.’
Elaine’s lips curled into a knowing smile.
Perhaps Elaine was right. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to know the reason she’d been returned from death. Maybe it was all a lie in the first place. She gave Elaine a suspicious glance, then cleared her throat. ‘What’s it like, in the House of Bone?’ she asked.
Elaine stared at her with her blind eyes. ‘You really want to know?’
Lamorna nodded, then, ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
‘When a girl enters the House of Bone, they leave behind everything they were – their friends, their family and loved ones. They only keep their names. They belong to the Red One,’ Elaine said.
‘Isn’t that… cruel?’ Lamorna asked.
‘Cruel? Perhaps. You get used to it,’ Elaine said.
Lamorna wasn’t sure that was something she’d ever be able to get used to. At least in Kernou, she’d had her aunt and Jenyfer. ‘But what do you do there?’
‘It depends. The Red Sisters are divided into three… groups, I guess you could call them, like the people are in Cruithea. There are those like me, who can see what was and what will be – there are not many of us though. Then, there are those whose magic is used to heal the sick and injured,’ Elaine explained.
‘And the third?’
‘Our warriors,’ the Red Sister replied.
‘Like the Inborn?’ Lamorna asked.
Elaine nodded. ‘In a way, yes. They train to fight with both magic and weapons. They are our protection.’
‘Protection against what?’
‘Against those who would stop the world from being reborn,’ Elaine said. Her blind eyes surveyed Lamorna critically. ‘You’re wondering where Mordred fits into this. All I can tell you is he does the Red One’s work.’
‘But what sort of world does She want?’ Lamorna asked. ‘I mean, Mordred believes in a world of magic, and he thinks Arthur does not want this. What does the Red One want?’
‘A world of balance,’ Elaine said.
‘And a world of magic would be a world of balance?’
Elaine was silent for a long time, then, quietly, ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not.’
Lamorna did not know what else to say, so she said nothing.
‘You cannot shut them out forever, Lamorna Astolat.’ Elaine sat down her teacup.
Lamorna swallowed. ‘Shut out what?’
‘The memories.’ Elaine stood abruptly, coming to stand behind Lamorna who went to turn her head, but the Red Sister’s hands came to rest on her cheeks, stopping her. She gasped as cold and damp rushed through her, and she heard music. ‘Reliving them will help you to understand.’
Lamorna was no longer in the castle. She was in the darkness, with the water and the music that never ended.
She was floating, suspended somewhere between life and death, her lungs full of water, her body full of air.
A man with shining dark hair knelt before her.
Melodias. He touched her cheek with black fingers.
Lamorna felt scales on his skin. His eyes were familiar – like a storm over the ocean. They were Jenyfer’s eyes.
‘Do you wish to live?’ he asked her, but his lips did not move. She heard his voice in her head instead. It was like music, deep and dark and strangely soothing.
She nodded. She could not speak.
‘And if I give you back your life, what will you give me in return?’
She said nothing. He stood and walked away.
Lamorna blinked, and he was back.
‘And if I give you back your life, what will you give me in return?’
She said nothing. There was too much music in her head. She could not think.
‘You are running out of time,’ he said, and she thought he sounded sad, but she wasn’t sure. ‘If I give you back your life, what will you give me in return?’
Anything, she thought desperately. Don’t let me die.