Air: Merlin's Chalice (The Children of Avalon Book 1) (16 page)

I moved even closer, dangerously close to the burning building, calling out again, “Bridget! Dylan! Sir Dagonet!”

The heat was becoming unbearable as I got closer still. “Sir Dagonet! Bridget!”

“Here, wot, wot?”

The familiar voice came through the crowd. With relief, I shoved between two older men who must have been early morning customers. Sir Dagonet was standing in front of the door to the inn, a measly fifteen or twenty feet from the fire.

Grateful that he was safe, I threw my arms around the old man.

“Ah. Yes, er…quite all right, don’t you know, quite all right.” He chuckled and gave my shoulders a little squeeze before releasing me.

“I’m so glad to see that you are,” I said with all my heart. “You haven’t seen Bridget, have you?”

Sir Dagonet’s smile slipped from his lips. He angled his head toward the burning building. “In there. With Dylan.”

“What?” I spun around to look at the inn.

“Exactly.”

The entire second floor was in flames. I could see fire licking out from the windows, and spots where the roof, too, was ablaze.

The men of the fire brigade were doing what they could, but that was so very little compared to the ferocity of the flames. Every minute or so the man at the head of the line would toss a measly bucket full of water into a window on the second floor, but he was just one man on a flimsy ladder pouring water into one window. The fire had spread throughout the building.

“Why didn’t they come out with you?” I asked, watching the men doing their best to control the fire.

“They did. Well, I thought they had, don’t you know?”

“Then what happened?”

Sir Dagonet opened his mouth to explain but then started to cough, choking on a gust of smoke that had billowed toward us. When he could speak, his voice was raw from the smoke. “I followed Dylan downstairs, and I thought Bridget was just behind me. But when I turned around, she wasn’t there. I started to call for her, but then we heard a crash upstairs and a scream.” Sir Dagonet’s knuckles were white as he held tightly onto the hilt of his sword in his hand. He seemed ready to spring into battle, but all he could do was look anxiously into the burning building.

“Dylan ran back up,” he concluded in a voice so quiet I almost missed his words.

“He went back in? To look for her?”

Sir Dagonet gave me a sad smile and a nod. “Brave boy, wot? Especially after all she had just said to him. Gave him quite a piece of her mind, she did. That’s what started the fire, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, she was fit to be tied, dear girl,” Sir Dagonet explained. “She yelled at him, throwing accusations at him like balls of fire. Some of them hit him, scorched him terribly, too. But some missed, don’t you know? They caught the place on fire. First the bedclothes, then the curtains. Soon the whole room was an inferno,” he concluded shaking his head.

I looked back at the building, not quite understanding, but just now I couldn’t focus my mind enough to question the knight. I was too concerned for Bridget.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I looked up, hoping they wouldn’t fall and give me away. As I did so, a fine mist of rain began, despite the fact that the sky was a clear, cool blue.

“Ha, ha!” Sir Dagonet exclaimed, a smile breaking out on his face.

I immediately turned on him. “What? Are you…?” I stopped and looked around us. There were people everywhere, but none close enough to hear if we kept our voices low. I was terrified of being caught as a witch.

“Oh no, I can’t do this. But Dylan can,” Sir Dagonet said, not even bothering to moderate his voice. I resisted the urge to reach up and put a hand over his mouth. I let my eyes stray around once again to ensure that no one had heard him.

“Means he’s all right, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet was saying. “Trying to put it out, wot?”

“But the rain’s not hard enough,” I whispered back as loudly as I dared. “It’s not enough water to put out this blaze.”

That sobered Sir Dagonet. “No, you’re right. He must be too tired to really bring on a downpour. Oh, dear. You’re going to have to do something, Scai.”

“Me? But what can I do?”

“What? Oh.” Sir Dagonet finally lowered his voice and bent down to whisper in my ear, “Bring on the wind, dear girl. Call it forth to put out the fire. But mind, it’s going to have to be a big one to really do the job.”

I looked about once again to make sure no one heard, but the people nearest were too busy watching and commenting on the fire to notice what we were saying.

“I can’t do that! Not here in the middle of this crowd of people. What if someone were to see me, or suspect something? I could…” I couldn’t even say what could happen to me, it was too close, too real. Just the thought terrified me.

“No, no. Who will know? Do it quietly, wot? Just reach down, right down inside of you, my dear, and bring it forth.”

Sir Dagonet paused and put his hand on my shoulder. “But just remember, it’s got to be big and all at once. Otherwise it’ll just spread the fire to the other houses nearby.”

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open a touch in horror. Sir Dagonet nodded at my reaction. I hadn’t even thought of the possibility of spreading the fire, but he was right. I had one chance, or else the whole town could catch fire.

My heart began to pound in my chest as I wiped my sweaty hands on my dress. “Oh no! Sir Dagonet, no, I couldn’t risk… No, I can’t, honestly I can’t.” I would be caught. I was certain that someone would see me. Even if they didn’t, surely I didn’t have that much magic to bring on a strong enough wind to blow out this enormous fire!

“Of course you can.” He turned and looked me straight in the eye. “You can do this, Scai. You have the ability. I have faith in you.” He turned and looked up.

The rain had stopped.

“And you’d better do it now. That’s not a good sign.”

My throat began to close up with emotion, and tears burned in my eyes. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t! But if I didn’t, Bridget and Dylan were going to die. I had to. Oh dear God, I had to do it, and I had to do it right the first time. And without anyone knowing it was me—I did not want to be burned at the stake. Standing this close to this burning building was the closest I ever wanted to come to a fire.

I began to wring my hands but then knotted them together and concentrated. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my whirling mind.

What had Sir Dagonet told me? Powerful magic took a lot of energy. This was certainly powerful magic if there was any.

Remembering how Dylan and I had stopped the storm just before we’d reached Gloucester, I closed my eyes and reached down inside of myself. I knew what my magic felt like now. From all over my body, I could feel my energy. Harnessing the magic, I brought it up and into my chest. From there, I imagined it all flowing down into my hands. My fingers tingled, but I kept a tight control over it. I held it back, dredged up some more, and added that to what I had.

My palms burned with the heat of so much energy. Still, I held on to it and pulled even more from every source I could find—from every part of my body and even from the air all around me. Slowly, ever so slowly, I raised my hands. The burning was intense, but still I held on to it—growing, growing…

And in one great breath, in one great push, I thrust out my arms—shoving all of that energy at the burning building in one great go. As I did so, my hair went flying and my dress flattened itself against the back of my legs as a huge rush of wind blew from behind me and into the building.

“What?”

“Where on God’s mighty Earth did that come from?”

People exclaimed all around me as they righted themselves after being caught off–guard by the gust of wind. Sir Dagonet caught me from collapsing where I stood.

“I don’t know, but that did it. Look! The fire’s gone out,” someone close to us shouted.

And from the gasps grew cheers. Suddenly everyone was yelling and clapping each other on their backs as if they were responsible for the wind that blew the fire out.

“Well done, oh, I say, well done!” Sir Dagonet said quietly in my ear.

Chapter Twenty Three

I
gave Sir Dagonet my best smile, but I was so exhausted that even that was an effort. In an instant, Sir Dagonet and I were surrounded by my brothers.

“Scai! Was that you?” Matthias said with barely restrained enthusiasm.

“What do you mean? Of course it was, idiot,” Piers said, pushing his brother out of the way so he could give me a hug.

“That was incredible, Scai,” Thomas said.

“Completely and wonderfully incredible!” Peter added.

I was thoroughly overcome, wanting nothing more than to bury my face in Sir Dagonet’s chest and cry my heart out.

It must have shown on my face, because Thomas put a gentle arm around my shoulders and said, “What is it?” His voice was so full of concern that I had the hardest time not bursting into tears right then.

I took a deep, shaky breath and looked all around at my brothers and then past them. “So many things,” I whispered. “Everything, really.”

I looked up into his eyes. “Was it so obvious that it was me who brought the wind? Will you hide me if they come after me? I’m too young to die, yet, Thomas. I’m not ready.”

“What are you talking about?” he said, with a smile, as if he were trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re not going to die.”

“But if it was so obvious that I produced the wind, they’ll think I’m a witch and burn me or have me swum,” I whispered. My whole body began to tremble. And the prophecy… it had said I would die young to save others. Was this that? Had I just ensured my own death in order to save Bridget and Dylan?

Peter scoffed loudly, “How ridiculous you are!”

“Don’t worry, if anyone tries to harm one hair on your head, we’ll have at them,” Matthias said.

I gave him a grateful smile, but I still couldn’t stop shaking.

Thomas gave my shoulders a little squeeze, and added, “If anyone should come after you—which I am certain they won’t—you’ll be safe with us.”

Gratefully, I rested my head against his shoulder, still looking at the door to the inn. “And Dylan and Bridget still aren’t here. Maybe you should…”

But then the door flew open and Dylan came staggering out, Bridget unconscious in his arms.

All of the brothers rushed to them, except Thomas. Luckily, he continued to hold on to me, even though I could feel him start then restrain his desire to dash forward with the others.

“Bridget!”

“My God, what happened to her?”

They all started talking at once, questioning Dylan, who looked ready to collapse. Piers managed to take Bridget before any of his brothers. Gently, he held her cradled in his arms.

Dylan, relieved of his burden, stood panting in the fresh air, his hands on his knees.

“Got hit,” he rasped, his voice rough with the smoke. He swallowed hard. “Got hit on the head by a falling beam,” he just managed to croak out.

“Come on, let’s get her home,” Peter said, trying to guide his twin in that direction.

“Yes, let’s get you all home,” James echoed.

“Are you all right to walk, Scai?” Thomas asked me.

“Yes, I think so, I’m just very tired.”

“’Course you are, my dear, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, coming around and supporting my other arm.

<><><>

“How could she?” Nimuë growled. “How
could
she have escaped? And the other ones as well!”

Nimuë prowled around her room like an animal in its cage.

“They are very strong, aren’t they?” Morgan asked.

Nimuë took another turn around the room and tried to ignore her sister. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “I can accept that they escaped from my hurricane—they worked together and managed to stop it. But my ravens should not have failed, and they would not have if it had not been for that other hawk. Who was that and why was it protecting the girl?”

Morgan was silent. So Nimuë took another turn around the room. “And the redhead was mine! She was unconscious, and mostly by her own hand too. I needed only to get her out of there, which I could have done easily… but, no, that tiresome boy and his sense of chivalry or whatever that was. He had to go back in there and pull her out.”

“You could have had them both.” Morgan was deliberately goading her.

“It would have been perfect.”

“But once again, Scai came to the rescue.”

Nimuë nearly growled in her anger.

“You have to admit her magic was impressive,” Morgan went on. “Calling for a gust of wind. And it was strong. Strong enough to put out the blaze without spreading it.”

She hated it—and never in her life would she admit as much to her sister—but Nimuë had been impressed.

“It should not have happened!” Nimuë slammed her fist down onto the table. Her silver bowl rattled with the force of the blow, spilling some of the precious water of Avalon. Nimuë steadied the bowl in her hands.

“Temper, my dear sister, temper,” Morgan said, trying to hold back her laughter and being completely unsuccessful.

“Why am I unable to capture these three? They are
children
.”

“You said yourself that they are not,” Morgan pointed out.

Nimuë waved a hand. “To me they are no more than children. Twenty years of age.” She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so angry—and concerned.

But then she realized she had not had to trick anyone in this manner for some time.

Yes, that must be it. She was out of practice. That was all. She was simply out of practice.

Merlin had been so easy—but then, he had known what was coming.

“This is not a problem,” Nimuë told Morgan. “Not at all.” She stood in front of the silver bowl and looked down at her sister’s shimmering image within it. “I will simply have to work a little harder. Be a little more clever, a little more cunning to deal with these three young
adults
.” She practically sneered the word. “I assure you, this is not a problem.”

<><><>

I lay down gently next to Bridget while Joan fussed over us both. Bridget had come to during the walk home and had immediately insisted that she could walk the rest of the way by herself. Her brothers would have none of it.