Shades of Avalon (19 page)

From here the road meandered for a short distance, and no one spoke, too busy watching the passing landscape. Sheep grazed behind wooden fences. Farther in, small stone ruins lay abandoned, and wild meadows grew up around them. We drove over a humped stone bridge and under trees where the braches entwined and merged, weaving a tunnel of sorts. Eventually the main house came into view.

John’s place wasn’t a house—it was an estate. An enormous and imposing, stately home. We had come through the private woods onto a gravel drive that led to an impressive gray stone building, complete with a tower and turrets. In front of the house, the drive formed a circle around a stone fountain. A centerpiece of carved, intricate vines twisted and rose from the water, partly covering a semi-naked young woman plucking at the strings of a small harp. Water sprouted from the rock where she sat, flowing back into the pond below.

“I thought this guy owns a coffee shop,” I stated flatly, repeating my statement from London, aware my mouth was hanging open a little.

“I thought he owns a couple of businesses,” Amanda replied, equally taken aback. She leaned forward as though the house wasn’t real and would blink out of existence at any moment. “How did we not know this?”

“Do you think Caleb knew about this place?” she asked dubiously.

I widened my eyes and pressed my lips into a flat line.

“Of course he did.” Amanda sighed.

After what happened when he didn’t know Triona’s true origins, Caleb made a point to learn all he could about everyone who came in contact with us. His way of keeping Triona and his family safe, I suppose. He was so busy looking out for everyone else—he never saw those guys coming for him.

We pulled up behind a Jeep with the gravel crunching ominously under the tires. Amanda and I got out first and waited for Guinevere and Merlin. For some reason this place didn’t feel like a home, more like a fortress. A place set up for protection. Ahead of us, Triona stood in front of the extended porch front that covered the thick wooden door. Her forehead creased deeply and dark purple smudges had settled underneath both eyes. With her healing ability, they wouldn’t be there long. She’d lost weight, and the coat that fit her a few days ago hung loosely on her shoulders.

John appeared beside Triona. As always his eyes seemed undeniably drawn to her. He shifted nervously. His eyes flickered between the house and Triona. In sweatpants and a bulky hooded sweatshirt, John didn’t fit my idea of “lord of the manor.”

He raised his arm at her back as if he might wrap her in an embrace and thought twice, dropping it limply by his side. Despite the fact he clearly hadn’t been as honest with any of us as he could have been, I pitied the guy. I really did. His jaw clenched so tightly it looked like one hard snap of his teeth and it would shatter. He rubbed his hand harshly over his face, and forced a smile just in time for Triona to look up to him. It had to suck being so utterly in love with someone who didn’t feel the same way.

Instinctively I reached over to Amanda, tucking her into my side and kissing the top of her head.

The corners of her lips turned down a little, and she sighed before bringing her arms to my waist.

Emma trotted over the crest of a hill near the rear of the house, a quiver full of arrows strapped to her back, carrying a recurve bow.

I lifted the trunk and Archú bounded out, almost knocking me over. The dog leapt about in excited circles, clearly happy to stretch his legs. Emma stopped, and her eyes widened before a smile spread across her lips. She removed the quiver over her head and laid it on the grass next to the bow. Emma ran forward and met Archú in a chorus of giggles, whoops, and barks. I was beginning to see the irony in the meaning of Archú’s name.

Merlin smoothed his hair and rolled his shoulders back, his sharp features a mask of confidence belying nothing of his usual unhinged and quick changing behavior. He shrugged off Guinevere’s help and strode toward the door. I could have been wrong, but he seemed to be filling out around his neck and chest. His eyes didn’t appear so deep or his cheeks so hollow.

Triona ignored him and wrapped her arms around me. Her body trembled slightly, and her heart beat brutally. “I was so worried. I can’t lose you too.” She pulled back and held my face in her hands. Her lips parted, and I thought she might say something else, but they snapped shut. Triona turned her attention to Amanda, hugging her too. Amanda forced out a shocked breath at the vigor of Triona’s greeting but patted her back.

“Where are others?” I asked.

“Samuel and Annice are in their room on a call to Joshua,” John responded. “Annice—she’s not doing so great.”

I nodded in understanding. “By the way, nice shack you have here.”

John blushed and dragged in a breath. He scratched his cheek and grimaced. “It’s hard to explain.”

I threw my hands wide and chuckled deeply. “Hey, take a look around. You’re in good company, dude.”

John shook his head and smiled with a hint of resignation. “I suppose.”

Triona released Amanda and stepped back, turning her attention to Guinevere and Merlin. Guinevere ducked her head in a show of respect and shifted aside, prodding Merlin.

Triona blinked, her gaze traveling up and down the length of his body. Now that he’d lost his stoop, Merlin was taller than I had realized and more lean than scrawny. His cobalt-gray hair was still filthy, and he smelled of stale air and burnt wood, but I spied something else in him, something powerful and unrelenting.

“My queen.” Merlin lowered his eyes a moment.

“You can call me Triona. Everyone does.” She smiled, uneasy.

“Of course,” he agreed. His shoulder twitched, and one eye narrowed for a split-second. It must have taken him great effort to appear so calm and in control.

Triona spotted his discomfort, as well as his apparent inability to make eye contact. Her forehead puckered into a frown. “Can you help us?”

Merlin hummed, his gaze slid to Guinevere standing beside him with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a guarded expression, giving away nothing to indicate her opinion one way or the other.

“Forgive me. I remain confused. I know you seek the Philosopher’s Stone, and I will assist you.”

Triona’s bottom lip quivered, and her eyes glazed. Tension visibly slid from her body. Archú padded up beside us and nudged his way under Merlin’s arm, his head tilted to the side seeming to join in the conversation. Emma came up to the other side of Amanda, her bow and quiver in her arms.

“I must warn you, Triona, Queen of Guardians, returning your consort will come with much sacrifice, and you must look deep within yourself before you set upon this course.”

She scowled. “I don’t understand.”

Amanda slipped her hand into mine and squeezed. John shifted closer to Triona, settling an air of strength and protection around her. Triona continued to glare at Merlin, oblivious to John’s scowl.

Merlin’s eyes clouded, and his eyebrows pulled together. His back curled, sagging his shoulders, and I knew we’d lost him again.

Triona reached out and touched his arm. He jerked back, cradling his hand as if the contact burned him. The dog whined by his side, its ears flicking in confusion.

Guinevere sidled up beside him. “Excuse us. It’s been a long journey. We require rest, and I think Merlin could benefit from a hot bath.”

Warring emotions flickered in Triona’s expression. I knew my sister, and her tolerance wasn’t infinite. She didn’t want to give Merlin time to rest. She wanted answers, and if I was honest, I did too. We had a life to get back to in Camden.

“I’ll show you to rooms,” Emma offered, obviously sensing the shift in mood.

Triona flinched, as if preparing to stop them but thought twice of it and allowed them to pass. Guinevere leaned into her and whispered.

“He will assist us.”

Triona nodded and sighed.

“Speaking of warnings,” Emma began as they walked away. “We’re roughing it. There’s no household staff about, and the house was closed up when we got here.”

John rolled his eyes at her remarks. “On the same subject with a more serious note, I’ve also given the grounds staff a holiday. We can manage the house, but there’s only so long I can keep them away without someone growing suspicious. There’s working farmland as part of the estate.”

“How long?” I asked.

John shrugged and rubbed his palm over his stubbled jawline. “Three weeks maybe. A month at best. We have a couple of horses and the sheep. The horses are gone to a local stable, and two of my men are moving the sheep to a nearby farm.”

I forced a harsh breath out through my nose. I really hoped we wouldn’t need to be here for a month. “Thank you.”

John attempted a smirk, but only one side of his lips turned up, making it appear unnatural. “Hey, no need. I don’t want any more unnecessary complications. The last thing I want is the folks working here to see something they shouldn’t.”

“You should grab some sleep too,” Triona suggested.

Amanda yawned on cue and attempted to stifle it with her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, chagrined.

“I’m sorry too,” I added, backing her up. “We both need sleep.”

Chapter 15

Dream a Little Dream

“B
EN
, A
RE
Y
OU
U
P
?” Amanda shouted up the stairs, ripping away the last remnants of sleep. “You’ll be late.”

“I’m up. I’m up,” I called back groggily and rubbed my eyes, bringing the room into focus. I tried to recall my dream, but the images were long gone, leaving only a drowsy sensation of losing something.

I threw back the covers on our restored sleigh bed and forced myself to sit. My bones creaked and settled. “That can’t be good,” I mumbled to myself, rubbing my stomach as I stood. I looked down at the soft pouch starting to form over the waistband of my cotton pants and promised to make time for the gym this week. I was still in good shape for a guy in his early forties. It wasn’t as if I was ever loaded with muscle like my buddy Jonathan. I’d had to train damn hard to make the grade for the team in school, but gravity was fighting back these days.

Dull light signaled the end of winter in Camden and gave everything in our bedroom a gray tint, despite the open drapes. Annoying and persistent rain tinkled against the window. I hoped the loose roof tile would hold out. I didn’t relish facing Amanda if rain leaked into the attic again.

“Ben!”

“I’m up!” I shouted. I remembered a time I had to drag Amanda from bed in the morning. Although it was a different bed, and our room looked nothing like it did back then. It had been a long time since I had to dig through disorganized boxes of fabric swatches to find my underwear. Not a swatch in sight. Now, she kept everything contained in her office/guestroom or at the showroom in town.

The floor to the bathroom was cold, but the aroma of bacon and coffee wafting from the kitchen was enough to keep me going. With any luck, there’d still be some left by the time I made it downstairs. I pinched my eyes again, trying to focus on the writing along the side of the toothpaste tube. How much more time did I have before conceding the need for glasses? My reflection showed a grown-up, complete with crow’s feet and speckles of gray in my dark red hair and stubble. Where had the time gone? It seemed like yesterday Amanda and I were fresh out of school, crazy in love, and saying goodbye as she went off to design college while I started my apprenticeship.

“Hey!” I raised my arms in the air and retreated out of the way of the bundle of teenage energy thundering down the upstairs hallway when I stepped out of my bedroom.

“Sorry, Dad.” Megan smiled ruefully, batting her long dark eyelashes. I frowned.

Jeez, every one of my girls has me wrapped around their finger.

Megan slung her school bag over her shoulder with her jacket bunched up in her arms. She paused one step down the stairs and turned to me, scooping strawberry blond hair behind her ear. Her head tilted to the side. I knew that look. Of our two daughters, Megan, our fifteen-year-old, was most like her mom. She scrunched up her delicate nose, hesitating.

“Spit it out, peanut.”

“Aunt Triona said I could visit at midterm, but I need to ask you and Mom.” The words came out so fast, I had to concentrate to keep up. “I have my Christmas and birthday money, and I’ve found a good deal on a flight, and you said the trip would be okay if I kept my grades up. It won’t cost you or Mom a cent—”

“Take a breath, peanut.” I laughed. “I know what we said, and we can talk about it at dinner.”

“Is that a yes?” Her eyes widened hopefully.

I kept my expression neutral, knowing Amanda wanted us to tell her together.

Megan squealed and bounced up the step as though she’d been flung upward from a trampoline. She hurled her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you, Dad.”

She was gone before I had a chance to argue. I groaned and headed toward the kitchen to face my wife.

Amanda was rinsing dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. Her long hair fell in loose curls to just below the shoulders of her shimmering, purple blouse. I allowed my eyes to travel down from her slim waist and pert behind to where shapely legs peeked out of a knee-length pencil skirt. She completed her work attire with high heels. Warmth tightened in my stomach at the sight of her. How the hell did I get so damn lucky?