Read Avalon High Online

Authors: Meg Cabot

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Arthurian

Avalon High (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross’d themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot:

“I thought you were leaving for Tahiti,” I said accusingly.

“Ellie,” my mom said in a warning voice.

“Well, that’s what he told me.”

I glared at Mr. Morton from where I sat on the couch, a blanket around me, even though I’d changed from my wet clothes into my oldest flannel pajamas, and drunk about a gallon of hot chocolate. I just couldn’t seem to get warm, in spite of the fact that the storm was over, and the night air was a relatively balmy sixty degrees.

Mr. Morton gave my father an apologetic look.

“I did tell her I was going to Tahiti,” he said. He looked very strange, sitting there in our living room. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing teachers outside of
school. “It was incredibly arrogant of me. You see, in my wildest dreams, I never imagined—”

“And how was making Will’s mom tell him the truth about their relationship supposed to help things?” I demanded.

“Ellie,” my mom said, again.

But I ignored her.

“It just made things worse,” I said. “I mean, you had to know Marco was going to find out.”

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Morton said. There was a cup sitting untouched in front of him. He’d gratefully accepted my parents’ offer of tea when he’d come through our front door, just minutes after my parents and I had gotten home from the police station. Having finally made it through the horrific traffic on the Beltway, my mom and dad arrived at our house only to find a message on the answering machine (the phone and power lines having come back on just minutes before they’d gotten home) asking them to pick me up at the police station.

Which hadn’t caused them to freak too much…not.

They’d met me, shivering in my wet things, outside the room they’d taken my statement in. Will was still inside, giving his. I wasn’t convinced it was sitting so long in wet clothes that had given me the permanent shakes, so much as having had to sit there under the stony and unforgiving gaze of Admiral Wagner, who’d shown up with his wife after Marco used his one phone call to call…well, them.

Which I thought was kind of ironic, considering the fact that he’d been all set to destroy their lives a half hour earlier.

In any case, Lipton, which is what my mom brewed up for Mr. Morton, apparently wasn’t quite up to his exacting standards, since the cup had grown cold in front of him.

“But after you left my place this afternoon,” Mr. Morton said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said, Elaine. About how Arthur would never leave me to die, the way I was leaving him. You can’t imagine the effect those words had on me. I’ve spent my whole life, you see, trying to uphold the values that the Bear taught us, and there I was, acting as cowardly as…well, as Mordred. I thought that if perhaps I could clear things up within Arthur’s family circle,” Mr. Morton went on, “there was a chance they could come to terms with the situation, and with one another—”

“And break the cycle,” my mom interrupted eagerly.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Mr. Morton, an actual member of the mystical Order of the Bear, showing up on our doorstep had been like a dream come true for my mother. She’d been hanging on the guy’s every word ever since he’d appeared at the door and introduced himself to my parents.

“But I should have known the dark side would never allow it,” Mr. Morton continued. “It must have signaled to Marco somehow that something was afoot at the school—the last place I would ever have expected to see
him, considering his antipathy toward the place…not to mention the restraining order keeping him from entering it.”

“But how did you know we were at the arboretum?” I asked him.

“Quite simple, really,” Mr. Morton said. “The lightning.”

“The lightning?” I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You probably didn’t notice, but the lightning was centered over an extremely small area…the distance between this house—your house—and the park, to be exact. I had only to follow the lightning to know that I’d soon find the Bear. Lightning is, of course, a weapon of the dark side.”

I nearly choked on my fourth cup of hot chocolate. I glanced at my parents to see whether or not they were swallowing this malarkey. But my mom looked enrapt—I could tell she was itching to get to her office to start writing all of this down in her book. And Dad didn’t exactly look disbelieving, either.

And they’re the ones with the Ph.D.s. Go figure.

“What I don’t understand,” my dad said, “is why the sword had such an effect on Marco—and Will, too, if what you described to me is true. That sword isn’t even from the right century to be Excalibur. Near as I can trace, the only king it ever might have belonged to is Richard the Lionheart, but—”

“Oh, it wasn’t the sword itself that mattered,” Mr.
Morton said brightly. “It was the person who gave it to him that made all the difference.”

All three adults turned to look at me. I blinked back at them.

“What?” I said intelligently.

“Don’t say ‘what,’ Ellie,” Mom said. “Say excuse me.”

“I don’t care about Image right now, Mom,” I said. “Why are you all staring at me?”

“I have wronged you, Ellie,” Mr. Morton said, in his deep, rumbly voice. “I don’t blame you at all for being annoyed with me. I incorrectly assumed you were Elaine of Astolat when I learned your name and realized your connection with the Bear. But of course you were never the Lady of Shalott.”

“I know,” I said, a little impatiently. “I told you that from the beginning.”

“I ought to have seen that you were someone far, far more important,” Mr. Morton went on. “And powerful. Though in my own defense, I feel it ought to be stated that never in the Order’s history has the Lady of the Lake been recorded as having made an appearance—”

I looked at him in some alarm.

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Lady of the what?”

“The Lady of the Lake,” Mr. Morton said. “I really think I can be forgiven for my error, however, since the Lady—begging your pardon, Elaine—is such an ambiguous character in Arthurian legend.”

“Absolutely,” my mother agreed. “Some scholars believe she never existed at all; others insist she was a
Celtic divinity. Most agree she was at the very least a powerful high priestess….”

“My only comfort,” Mr. Morton said, with a nod, “is that the Dark mistook your daughter for the Lily Maid as well. Had they known they were dealing with anyone as powerful as the Lady of the Lake, they would have attempted to eliminate her early on. Even Marco, as I understand, heard the name and put it together with her fondness for—”

“Floating.” I swallowed. “Mom. Dad. Listen. You can’t honestly believe all this…junk.”

But my parents just looked at me like,
You’ve got to be kidding
. They’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. Which, given how little they actually get out of the house, shouldn’t have been so surprising.

“Oh, there’s no question about it, Ellie,” Mr. Morton said, with a smile. “I understand that the idea will take some getting used to. But there’s no getting around the fact that you are, indeed, the reincarnation of the Lady of the Lake. It was she who gave Arthur the weapon that he used to defend himself and the realm. And only she could have kept his friendship with Lancelot and Guinevere from splintering, leaving him vulnerable to attack from his mortal enemy.”

“I didn’t do that,” I protested. “I just told Will he’d better tell Jennifer it didn’t bother him, you know, so people wouldn’t go around thinking he was upset about the whole thing when he wasn’t—”

“Like I was saying.” Mr. Morton smiled at my par
ents. “You have a very impressive daughter, Professors Harrison.”

My mom beamed modestly back at him. “I always did think she was destined for greatness.”

It seemed like a good idea to change the subject, which was creeping me out, so I asked the room in general, “What’s going to happen to Marco, anyway?”

“Jail,” my mother said, in a hard voice. While the Arthurian stuff seemed to be thrilling her, the gun thing really wasn’t. “Hopefully for the rest of his life.”

“I’m afraid it won’t be quite that long,” Mr. Morton said. “He didn’t in the end actually hurt anyone. But when he does get out, which will be fairly soon, he should be quite harmless. The power of darkness left him when Will triumphed over it.”

Oh,
brother
. I rolled my eyes some more.

“Poor kid,” my dad said, with a sigh. “He’s had a tough life.”

“He was going to shoot our daughter,” Mom reminded him. “Forgive me if I don’t cry.”

“With proper therapy and rehabilitation,” Mr. Morton said crisply, “he should become a properly functioning citizen in no time.”

“And…” I hated to ask it, since it was bound to get them talking about the Lady of the Lake thing again. But I had to know. I hadn’t seen him since the police had separated us for questioning. I had no idea what had happened to him since. “…Will?”

“The Bear?” Mr. Morton looked thoughtful. “Yes,
well, Arthur is at a crossroads just at the moment. He’s been betrayed by his brother, it’s true. But also by his parents. It will be interesting to see—”

“Will didn’t get along with his dad before this,” I interrupted. “I mean, Admiral Wagner wanted him to go to military school, and Will didn’t want to. And now that he knows that his dad lied to him all this time about his mom, I don’t think he’s going to be any more willing to do what the guy says. And could you please not call him Arthur? Because it is truly creepy.”

“Ah,” Mr. Morton said. “Yes, sorry. And he mentioned as much to me—about his father, I mean—when we talked back at the station house—”

“You
talked
to him?” I practically yelled. “You
told
him? About the Arthur stuff?”

“Well, of course I did, Elaine,” Mr. Morton said, a little testily, considering a minute ago he’d been telling me I’m supposed to be a high priestess of some kind. “The man has to know his birthright.”

“Oh, God,” I said, dropping my face into my hands. “What did he say?”

“Not very much, actually,” Mr. Morton said. “Not surprisingly, I suppose. It’s not every day a young man hears that he’s the reincarnation of one of the greatest leaders of all time.”

I stifled my groan in my hands.

“I’ll be staying here in Annapolis, of course,” Mr. Morton went on, “in order to help guide his next steps. And other members of the Order will be flocking here, as
well, in order to best facilitate his needs.” It was all my mother could do, I could tell, to keep from clapping her hands with glee at the thought of dozens of members of the Order of the Bear descending upon Annapolis…just in time for her to interview them for her book. “College is the next obvious move, but it’s got to be the
right
college. With Arthur’s—excuse me, Elaine, I mean, Will’s grades he can get in anywhere, of course, but the question is, what university is really best for molding the mind of a man who could well become one of the most influential leaders in modern history?”

Thankfully, the doorbell rang just then.

I threw off my blanket and said, “I’ll get it,” then hurried to see who it was, muttering, “It better not be any powers of evil…” only to have Mr. Morton call merrily, “Oh, don’t worry. They’ve all been thwarted, thanks to you.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically. And threw open the door.

To find Will standing there, holding a gym bag in one hand, and Cavalier, on a leash, in the other.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in His mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, his eyes looking bluer than ever in the porch light—so blue, in fact, that I was swimming in them before I even managed to get out a greeting of my own.

“Hey,” I croaked.

Moths beat at the door I was holding, trying to get in. Behind Will, the night-dark, rain-soaked yard was an orchestra of chirping crickets and cicadas.

“I’m sorry to stop by so late,” Will said. “But Cav and I…we sort of need a place to stay. Do you think your parents would mind if we crashed here for a few days? Just until I find my own place. Things at home are…” He gripped the strap to his gym bag a little
more tightly. “Not good.”

I’d have given him my own bed to sleep in, and gladly taken the floor. But I didn’t admit this out loud. Nor did I let any of my intense relief that he was still in Annapolis show. If I had been in his place, I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have packed up and left town, not wanting to see ever, ever again any of the people involved in what could only have been the most painful moment of my life.

Instead, I said, as casually as I could, “Come on in, and I’ll check.”

Will came in, Cavalier following close at his heels.

“Who is it, Ellie?” Mom called, from the living room.

Standing in the darkness of the foyer, I looked up at Will.

“Mr. Morton is here,” I whispered.

One side of Will’s mouth twitched upward. I didn’t know if this meant he was pleased or the opposite.

“I’m not exactly surprised,” he said.

“I can try sneaking you upstairs,” I offered.

“No,” he said. And this time both corners of his mouth went up. “Kings don’t sneak.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re not telling me you
believe
—”

“Move it, Harrison,” he said, and taking me by the arm, propelled me back into the living room.

“Uh, Mom, Dad,” I said. “Will’s here.”

For a second, both my parents and Mr. Morton stared up at Will as if he were some kind of ghost. Then Mr.
Morton finally pried his jaw apart to whisper, “Of course. Of course he’d come here,” as if he were speaking to himself.

Ignoring him, I said to my mom and dad, “Will needs a place to stay for a couple of days. Can I give him Geoff’s room?”

My mom looked worriedly at Will.

“Oh, dear,” she said. My dad was the one who asked, “That bad at home, eh?”

Will, still holding his gym bag, nodded. Cavalier, at his side, was eyeing Tig, who’d risen to her feet and was standing on the hearth with her tail puffed out to five times its normal size. Neither animal, however, made a sound. They just looked at each other.

“I wouldn’t ask, sir,” Will said to my dad, “if it weren’t…Well, Jea—I mean, my mom is all right. It’s my dad. I—” Will glanced at Mr. Morton. “The thing is, sir, I sort of told him I wasn’t going to enroll in the Academy next year, and he blew up. I probably didn’t pick the best time to bring it up, exactly, with Marco…well, with Marco where he is right now. But I felt like it was time—
past
time—we all started being honest with each other. And—well, long story short? My dad threw me out of the house. I was hoping I could stay here until I can find a place of my own. But if it’s a problem—”

“Of course you can stay here,” my dad said, to my everlasting relief. “Long as you need to.”

“You must be exhausted,” my mom gushed, jumping to her feet. “I know I am, and I haven’t been through half
of what you have today. Ellie, show him up to Geoff’s room. Did you have supper, Will? Want me to heat up some ribs? You’re hungry, I suppose?”

The smile Will flashed her could have electrified the Beltway all over again.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Always.”

“I’ll fix you up a plate of something,” my mom said, and hurried into the kitchen, while my dad followed her, muttering, in a perfectly audible voice, “Kid’s going to eat us out of house and home.”


Dad
,” I said, appalled. “We can
hear
you.”

“I know,” my dad called back.

To Mr. Morton, who’d risen to his feet and was standing a few feet away, looking awkward and deferential, Will said, “Hello again, sir.”

“Sire,” Mr. Morton said…and he actually gave a little bow.

I thought I was going to crack up right there in front of him, but Will grabbed my arm and dragged me out of there and back into the hallway before I could.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, trying to stifle my giggles. “Is he going to call you that every time he sees you now? Like in school and everything?”

“I hope not,” Will said. “Come on, show me where I can throw this thing.”

So I took him—and a politely inquisitive Cavalier—to Geoff’s room, which was really just a guest room now, Geoff being away at college.

All I could think the whole time I was going up the
stairs was,
He’s staying the night. Maybe more than just the night. Maybe a few nights. I’m going to see him last thing before I go to sleep. And first thing every morning when I wake up
.
Like the rose he gave me.

Nancy will
die
when she finds out.

Will threw his bag down onto the bed without even glancing around to see whether or not he liked the room. Instead, he just looked at me.

And suddenly I was aware of how very alone we were together. Well, with the exception of Cavalier and Tig, who seemed to have slunk up the stairs behind us. The two of them carefully touched noses, then both backed into separate corners to eye each other some more.

“There’s a bathroom right next door,” I said. “My parents use the one off the master, and I use the one off my room, so you’ll have this one all to yourself. There are clean guest towels in it already.” I was babbling. I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “We usually have just cereal for breakfast, but my mom makes pancakes on special occasions, and, well, this is sort of special, so maybe she’ll make them tomorrow if we—”

“Elle,” Will said gently.

I blinked at him. Well, what else could I do? Every time he called me that, it made my heart seem to swell to twice its normal size.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care about pancakes,” he said.

I blinked some more.

“No,” I said. “I don’t imagine you do. Sorry. I just—”

And then he pulled me to him and started kissing me.

And I realized something as we kissed. Something strange.

And that’s that I was happy.
Really
happy. For the first time in…well, a long time.

And I didn’t think that feeling was going to go away anytime soon, either.

“Hey,” I said, a minute later, when he finally let me up for air. “That’s no way for a king to behave.”

Will said something decidedly unaristocratic about kings, and kissed me some more.

“Besides,” he said, a few minutes later, his kisses finally having put an end to my shivering, “you don’t believe all that stuff Morton was talking about, do you?”

“Hardly,” I said, with a snort. Because it was easy not to believe in the powers of darkness when Will was holding me in his arms and my cheek was resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. I loved the way I could feel his voice reverberating through his body as he spoke. “Me neither. I mean, can you believe there’s a whole organization of people who’ve just been waiting around for King Arthur to rise again?”

“No,” I said. “Although there are worse things than being worshipped as a demigod by a bunch of people who are apparently perfectly willing to pay your college tuition.”

“That’s true,” Will said thoughtfully. “What I can’t
help wondering though is…I mean, you don’t think—”

I lifted my head. “What?”

“Nothing. Just…Well, that was weird today, in the park. When you handed me that sword—”

“It had nothing to do with the sword,” I said, laying my cheek back against his shoulder. “Not because of what Mr. Morton says, either. It was just…the circumstances. You know, of my handing it to you just when the sky cleared up, and the fact that we might have been shot down dead at any given time. Tomorrow, when the police give the sword back to my dad, you’ll take a look at it and see. It’s just an ordinary, rusty old sword.”

“I know. That’s what makes it even stranger. I mean, I’m not saying I believe it. What Morton said. Not all of it, anyway. But some of it—like how I knew you. That very first day, by the ravine, when you smiled at me. I’d never met you before, but I still…I
knew
you.”

“You just
wanted
to know me,” I said, giving him a squeeze. “Because I’m so cute, and everything.”

Will shook his head, his blue eyes gleaming.

“Think you’ve got all the answers, do you?” he asked. “Well, riddle me this, Batgirl. What about how similar everyone’s names are? Lance and Lancelot. Jennifer and Guinevere. Morton and Merlin—”

I gasped at this.

“No! You don’t think—not
Merlin
.”

“Hey,” he said. “Is it any crazier than me being Arthur, or you being the Lady of the Lake?”

“I’m
not
the Lady of the Lake,” I said firmly.

“Oh, you’re not?” He was grinning now. “With the amount of time you spend in the water?”

“It’s a pool,” I pointed out. “Not a lake. And I’m not even on the swim team. Besides, what if it
is
true? If you really are Arthur, and I really am the Lady of the Lake…well, then this isn’t how the story’s supposed to go, is it? With us, I mean. Together. Like this.”

“It is now,” he said, with a grin. And kissed me again.

And I remembered something then that I had forgotten up until that moment—something I knew that Mr. Morton had also realized, downstairs. Something I decided not to mention to Will:

And that was that, in the legend of Camelot, the Lady of the Lake didn’t just bring Arthur his sword.

No, she performed one other service for him, too.

When it was all over, she brought him home.

To Avalon.

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