Page 28 of The Quest for Excalibur
I had to convince him. The danger that had threatened me still remained, menacing all of us.
I squeezed his hands. “She could. I know she could.” I pushed myself more upright in the bed. “Ask Hafren. She’s somehow involved. I know it. I–I saw her in my dream.” My eyes drilled into his. “And I saw Nimuë as well.”
For a moment, Nimuë’s childish face with Merlin’s clever, knowing eyes gazed at me. Was she evil like her mother, or had Merlin protected her by whatever it was he’d done that night seven years ago in her nursery? Morgana had been incandescent with fury as she watched, bound and helpless, as those weird and terrifying shadows climbed the walls of that dark room.
I swallowed again, my mouth even drier. “Nimuë was there.Forme. Not against me. I’m certain.” I willed him to believe me. “I think she drove her mother’s magic away and replaced it with her own.”
Until I said it, I hadn’t known. But now the truth shone like a beacon in the dark. I gripped Arthur’s hands harder still. “I need to speak to Merlin.”
I sensed the struggle going on in Arthur’s head; the conflict between his common sense telling him that what I said couldn’t possibly be true, and the ingrained Dark Age belief in omens, magic, foretelling the future, and evil spirits. A belief he’d deliberately turned his back on and claimed not to give credence to. I’d done the same myself, but now I knew differently.
“The blow to your head’s confused you…”
I shook my head and wished I hadn’t, because it felt as though my brain was rattling loose inside my skull. “No. It hasn’t. I’ve never felt clearer headed. I need to speak with Merlin.” I kept my gaze fixed on his.
For a moment, he wavered, gazing back into my eyes as though he could draw out my story through them. Then, with reluctance, he released my hands and stood up, hovering for a moment by the bed as though still uncertain.
“Merlin,” I repeated, my voice strengthening along with my growing determination.
He left the room, and I lay back on my pillows, staring up toward the shadowy rafters above my head, exhausted, every bump and scrape pressing in on me, making me aware of how sore my body was. Oh, for some lovely codeine. I closed my eyes.
Time ticked by.
The slight creak of the door opening disturbed me. Merlin padded across the room on booted feet and halted beside the bed. I waved a hand at where Arthur had been sitting. “Please. Sit.”
Wary, he perched on the edge, a little further off than Arthur had been, those clever dark eyes of his fixed on me, brow furrowed. The eyes he’d passed on to Nimuë. “You wanted to see me.”
I held his gaze. “Morgana stole me away and tried to send me back.”
His eyes narrowed. “What d’you mean?”
“Just that. She sent me back to my old world.” I paused, watching his reaction.
His eyes widened. “Go on…”
“I was there. Back in my old world on the exact same day you brought me here. Someone… found me.” Best not to mention Nathan and confuse matters any further. “He took me to a hospital– a place to treat my injuries. The ones I got here, not the ones I got from rolling down the hill. The ones from falling off Alezan and being kicked.” I paused. “That was how I knew everything was wrong.”
His frown deepened, and his gaze sharpened. “How can that be?”
“I hoped you could tell me that.”
He shook his head. “I’ve no idea.” A pause. “What did you see?”
I told him, describing everything I’d seen and heard, from Arthur kissing Hafren, to Nimuë in the boat, the sword, the message, the ambulance and hospital, my flight– the policeman… the laughter. I made sure I told him about that laughter.
For a long time after I’d finished, he sat in silence, staring at his hands where they rested in his lap. I closed my eyes, so exhausted sleep beckoned, but determined not to give in. Afraid to give in. Afraid I’d be snatched away again if I slept. Afraid of how strong her power might be.
“Someone sabotaged your girth.”
My eyes flicked open. I nodded. “I suspected as much. I keep my saddle in good order. When I last cleaned it, I’d have seen if any stitching needed redoing. It didn’t.”
Merlin nodded. “Not one of our people. None of them would wish harm to their Queen, the luck of Arthur.” He shook his head. “The only strangers in Din Cadan are Ruan and his two women.”
“It was Hafren. The dancing girl.”
“You can’t know.”
I shook my head, and regretted it again. “But Idoknow. She’s a witch. Like Morgana. Nowhere near as powerful, but a witch, nonetheless. She has to be in Morgana’s pay.”
