Page 47 of The Daughters of Avalon
He studied her a long moment, shaking his head. “I would not believe it had I not witnessed it with my own two eyes. Witchery, I presume?”
Elspeth winced. She didn’t like that word, but mostly because of what it meant to others. She was adewine, a child of the Earth Mother—a Maiden pledged to thehud. But for all he knew of the Craft, witchery was as good as any word she might use.
Taking a deep, deep breath, she confessed it all. All the while, Malcom listened… with a hand to his shoulder, rubbing idly at the spot where his wound had been, as though requiring proof.
But of course he would! It was not something he could swiftly embrace.
Only fearing she would lose her nerve if she stopped to consider what she was doing, she rushed on to tell him the rest—everything,everything, including the vision she’d had about her mother and her sister. Alas, some things were greater than the sum of one, she realized—or even five—and now she understood that Morwen was building herself a dynasty unlike any that Cerridwen had ever aspired to, and unless she and her sistersprevented it, Morwen, herself, would someday rule Britain. Her poppets would be kings.
To all her revelations, Malcom merely listened, and if he believed she could be tetched in the head, he didn’t say so. To the contrary, he seemed to be taking her seriously, and when Elspeth told him about her vision, the color drained from his face. “Do you know where she could be?”
“En route to the priory, I presume.”
He made a gesture toward his head, then tapped a finger at his temple and twirled them. “Can’t you warn your sisters, somehow? Speak to their minds, as you did with me?”
Elspeth shook her head, frowning. “It doesn’t work that way, Malcom. Though I am quite certain they already know. Even if Rhiannon has not seen it, Morwen was bound to hie there as soon as she learned. We knew the very day I left that she was bound to go.”
He rubbed at his chin, considering all that she’d said. “I have heard much tittle-tattle about your mother, though I never believed it.”
“Aye, well, youmustbelieve it,” Elspeth told him. “She is treacherous and there is much more I could say, but I would not have you look at me the same way you would look at her.”
“I see,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.
“I am not some evil sorceress, Malcom… I am adewine,” she explained. “Born of the blood of Avalon. I cannot turn anyone into a toad, nor can I create something from nothing.”
His brow furrowed. “Whatcanyou do?”
Elspeth shrugged. “Not as much as my sister, more than you.”
“That tells me naught, spinner of words.” He smiled. And yet despite the smile, his blue eyes were full of turmoil—believing her, not believing her. But, thankfully, he did not seem to be afraid of her, because it was fear that was ultimately responsiblefor all the atrocities men had committed against her people. But hewasconflicted, she realized, and his eyes needed to see to believe.
Resigning herself to the fact that most men were not born to comprehend this long-buried part of their beings, Elspeth prepared to show him. But there was only so much she could do without a proper ritual. Still, determined to win him, she held his gaze, willing him to believe, and without any movement on her part, she cast out the torches—all of them—bathing the room in shadows.
“Did you do that?”
“Aye.”
In the darkness, she heard him swallow, and then and only then did she return the flames to the torch, but only to one—the one closest to the door.
And just to be sure, she fed the remaining torch her force, until the flames rose high enough to lick the ceiling, brightening the room so it looked like the inside of a kiln. Only after she was satisfied that he understood it was her doing, she returned the flame to its natural state, and revived the cressets. With a furrowed brow, Malcom peered up at the ceiling, at the black soot she’d left behind and stared in wonder. But, lest he mistake the truth, she said, “I am little different from you, Malcom. We are both children of the Goddess, save that you and your people have forgotten her, and she has forsaken you. You must believe inmagik, or it cannot exist.”
“And your song?”
“All true, though men will doubt it—as you must doubt me.”
He rubbed his brow. “I cannot say I am clear on the particulars,” he confessed. “But I do not doubt you, Elspeth. Only tell me what you need of me, and I have said I would help.”
Tears of gratitude sprang to her eyes. “Thanks to my sister, I cannot return to Wales,” she confessed. “So I must ask it of you in my stead.”
He dropped his hand into his lap. “You want me to go back to Wales?”
Elspeth nodded. “To Llanthony,” she explained, and, with a dull ache in her heart, she reached out, brushing a hand over Malcom’s forehead, over his scar, begging him, despite knowing full well that this one bit of guile was the one charm no woman should ever abuse. And yet she was desperate, and she would give anything—including her body—if Malcom would but champion her sisters as well. “I would have you bring them north,” she said.
He was quiet a long moment, and then his lips curved ever so slightly. “How far north? he asked, and Elspeth dared to grin, realizing he was jesting with her.
“As far north as you mean to go,” she said, withdrawing her hand, but he placed his hand over hers, pressing her palm to his face, and sliding it to his cheek. Despite his moment of good humor, he said very soberly, “You would have me interfere in my king’s affairs?”
Elspeth begged with her eyes. “I cannot abandon my sisters,” she said. “If you will not go, Imusttry.” And then, rising to her knees on the bed, she looked Malcom straight in the eyes.
