Page 269 of The Daughters of Avalon
Approaching it reverently, Seren took some comfort in the lack of blue shimmer on the shining steel. She had only witnessed that effect once… a chemical reaction to her mother’smagik? A warning from theaether?
Find your true self.
Only then will you find your answers.
Isolde’s words accosted her again as she gnawed at the tip of her thumbnail. Trying to remember all she’d learned over these past weeks, she stood studying the ancient weapon—a sword originally imbued by the father of their coven and gifted to the Dragon Lord of the Anglesey.
He wasn’t a witch, but his wife was. And merely because Maelgwn had valued his lady’s counsel, the Church pronounced him an enemy. Plotting against him, they’d sent Taliesin and Uther under the guise of friendship, and one night, after drinking his wine and supping at his tables, they’d slaughtered the Dragon Lord, murdered his son, captured his daughter, and stole his pennants. Thus, was born the new dynasty, through treachery and blood.
This was the story, according to Isolde.
But that was only part of the tale… a tale that began ages and ages before Uther and Maelgwn…
It began with Cerridwen and her hatred for her husband. For all her fury against the man, she’d brought down a wrath from the gods so fierce that the consequences were felt far and wide.
“What am I supposed to know?” she asked quietly, regarding the ancient sword. “Tell me, Goddess, lest I fail you.”
Silence was her answer—a deep, abiding silence that betrayed nothing. The shutters remained closed against the night. No crow returned to her sill.
Whatever truth she must reveal, it would not come easily.
“Where the devil are you, Rhiannon?”
Rhiannon alone had the knowledge their grandmother bestowed. Without her, this task seemed daunting and indomitable. And nevertheless, Seren knew there was no time for regrets.
Everything happened for a reason—wasn’t that what her sister claimed? To arrive at this place and time, there was no other path to have been taken. If Elspeth hadn’t escaped from Llanthony, she wouldn’t have met Malcom. Instead, she would have been trapped in a loveless marriage with the lord of Blackwood. And she would never have defeated Morwen at Aldergh, nor would Rosalynde have been inspired to leave London with Morwen’sgrimoire.
More importantly, Rosalynde’s affiliation with Giles now gave them possession of this sword… the only weapon of consequence to be used against Morwen.
Sadly, if Arwyn hadn’t sacrificed herself that night… Seren, too, might now be dead…
Like a window to the past, she saw it in her mind’s eye—a glimpse of that moment on theWhitshed, when Arwyn, holding that shard of Merlin’s Crystal, hurled it at the door. Like a dream, she witnessed the final moments and heard the words Rhiannon spoke before she, too, fell silent evermore:Aye, ’tis she,she’d said.
She.
The witch goddess whose sins doomed Avalon.
Shewhom her mother and uncle had summoned here from exile.
Only now, if no one stopped her, she would doom England as surely as she’d doomed her beloved isle.
How to stop her was the question… and the key… in part… was the sword.
The beauty of it was immeasurable.
Undetectable to any butdewineeyes, a tangle of intricately carved serpents writhed over its silver inspired hilt. On the blade itself lay etched in the most ancient of tongues, “Take me, but turn the blade, and we will see.” And still, no matter how long Seren stared at the sword, or how many times she repeated the phrase, she hadn’t any clue what it meant.
Take me, but turn the blade, and we will see…
There was another word etched betwixt the serpents:Caledfwlch.Translated from her native tongue, it meant “cut steel.” And in the language of the Holy Church…Caliburn.
Some also knew it as Excalibur.
Crafted from some alloy taken from the heart of Avalon, the blue shimmer was not its only blessing. It had another, so ’twas said—one that could only be actuated by a Regnant, which Seren was not…
Not yet.
Even so, she must find a way to fulfill the ancient prophecy, so that he who wielded the sword might not bleed. Without that quality, it was uncertain that anyone could survive an encounter with her mother.
