Page 148 of The Daughters of Avalon
“Dear girl… you gave us a time,” he scolded. “No matter how thoroughly we searched, we could simply not find you. We thought for certes you would fly north. But nay… here you are.”
Clawing at her throat, Arwyn tried again to scream, but no sound squeezed through her tightened throat.
Clearly, this was her mother’s servant—one of the many fanatics who bowed to Morwen’s every whim.
Watching her face, smiling cruelly as she attempted to speak again, he said, “I am not so adept as your mother, but she taught me well.” And with that revelation, he shoved back the hood of his cloak. “You see… wehavemet before,” he said, introducing himself. “My name is Bran.”
Arwyn’s eyes widened with fright. She shook her head.Nay!It couldn’t be. Bran was the name of her mother’s familiar. Bran—the beady-eyed raven Morwen kept by her side.
Shivering with fear, recognizing the unholy light in the man’s eyes, she nevertheless knew it to be true and she made a dash for the door. Bran caught her too easily, flying at her with his cloak unfurled and pushing her back onto the bed like a limp doll. “Where are your manners?” he scolded. “Nay, sweetling. We shall sit and wait for your pretty sister. And once she returns, we willallreturn to your mother.”
Choking on her fear as much as her tongue, Arwyn scrambled backward on the bed, away from this unholy beast. Her gaze skittered across the room, from the door, over the walls, searching for something—anything, she could use to defend herself. But even as she searched, she knew… she knew… thisman had come to her armed with her mother’smagik… Arwyn had nomagikat all.
She had butonetool at her disposal…
Only one.
Fire.
His smile stretched over those canines, widening so that his nose curved under like a beak. “I see you understand, my dear girl.” And he cast a hand out. “Truly, there’s naught to be done.” His voice was ever-so calm. “Once your sister returns, my mission is complete. How pleased your mother will be.”
Oh, nay!Nay! Nay!
It cannot end this way.
“More’s the pity for you, she’ll never underestimate you again.”
Hot tears burned Arwyn’s eyes. She wished so desperately to call for help, but even if she could have, she knew instinctively no one would hear. The surrounding silence was devoid of life.
Sweet fates! Had he murdered the captain and crew? Was that the sound she’d heard above deck? He leaned against the door now, his eyes smiling once he realized she understood the futility of her circumstances.
But… therewassomething she could do.
Until Seren returned, he had only her. Until Seren returned, her sister remained free. And, so long as one of them remained free, she would live to fight another day…
Like her mother, Bran was evil incarnate. Morwenmustbe stopped. Atallcost her mothermustbe stopped. If no one stopped her she would doom England as surely as Cerridwen had once doomed Avalon. And if this man, in truth, was Bran,shapeshiftingwashud duknown to only onedewinein all creation: Cerridwen, the destroyer of realms.
Aye, ’tis she. You know what to do, sweet sister.
Rhiannon?
Trust your heart to the flame.
Somehow, it was as though Rhiannon herself came and embraced her, giving her strength in love, and in that instant, beyond all things earthly, Arwyn understood what must be done…
Bran constrained her words, but not her hands; that would be his undoing. One hot tear slid past her lashes, trickling onto her cheek as she reached into her pocket for the shard of Merlin’s Crystal, revealing it to Bran.
For an instant, her mother’s minion tilted his face as though mesmerized. The shard ignited blue, and Rhiannon needn’t speak again to say what she must do. Arwyn already knew. She was lost. Now that Bran had her in his grasp, he’d never set her free. He was far too canny to succumb to tricks. But Arwyn had nomagik. And worse, she had no guile.
No one would come to rescue her—only Seren, and Seren was no match for this servant of darkness.
If they returned to their mother, their lives would be forfeit.
Sadness squeezed her heart, and her pupils reflected the blue firelight in her hand… else the fire in her eyes imbued the crystal…
The most tragic thing in the world for a flame burning bright was to become a harbinger of darkness.
Right now, this instant, Arwynwasthe flame. She was born for this instant. No one could save her, but she could save Seren.
