Page 30 of Secrets of Avalon
Wraith nods. I hate to admit Ares’ is right, but she does look human at first glance. Her hair is a soft brown. Her eyes show no magickal coloring. The hood was the correct choice.
“Stay next to us, Melinda.”
She licks her lips, biting the bottom one before stepping closer to me.
“If anyone sees Nimue, you take Melinda’s hand and don’t let go. Is that clear?” My order makes all the men briefly stiffen, but it’s better they know and are prepared.
“Fucking fate, Hawke.” Fenrir snaps out, baring his fangs. He and the Siren Queen don’t get along at all. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Episode 5
CHAPTER 13
Got It. Magick Tree.
Melinda Mayweather
As the five guys create a ring around me, I’m hit with a mix of awe and a touch of claustrophobia. This is probably what famous people feel like when they’re escorted places, except instead of dodging paparazzi, they’re hiding me from… I’m not entirely sure yet. Hawke is leading our little parade,, confidence oozing with every step he takes. His brother hot on his heels. Ares is to my right, giving off major I’ve got your back in a bar fight vibes. Then there’s Fenrir on my left, all mysterious and vague warnings, like a fortune cookie come to life. And Wraith? He’s this towering dark presence right behind me. Still keeping quiet about what exactly he is…
"Kellan won’t be able to find me. He said to wait.” I try to sound convincing.
“He knows exactly where you are, milady,” Ares answers, his voice smooth and somehow reassuring despite the sound of seriousness. “That dragon on your wrist tells him.”
I glance down at my wrist, watching the glittery green tattoo do its slither thing. Up a little, down a little, never past my elbow. It’s weird, but I’m getting used to it. It’s sort of comforting, actually. Plus, like Ares said, Kellan can find me anywhere because of this little magickal GPS. Some might find it invasive, but when you’ve spent your life being hunted and hidden… well, a protective stalker bodyguard doesn’t sound so bad.
I hear weeping before we enter a huge open hall, but I’m distracted by the beauty of the place. The room is elegant and stunning. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight. It’s like stepping into a history book or one of those European castles you see in documentaries but never dream of visiting. The ceilings stretch up forever, intricately designed, and the floor is polished to a mirror sheen. The walls and the ornate doors interspersed on them add to the impressiveness, especially that one door at the very end with the metal snakes acting like some kind of ancient security system.
I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit buried in architecture books and helping my mom research everything Avalon, but standing here? It’s like living inside one of those photographs, except no picture could ever capture the scale or energy this place gives off. It’s so much more than I could’ve ever imagined.
Another wail of anguish cuts through the air and I cringe, backing up a step and bumping into Wraith. I step forward quickly and bite back a squeak of surprise. The mom’s cries for her missing kid. They’re gut wrenching.
Hawke turns to me and reaches for my hand. The sadness in the air melts away the moment our hands connect. “I have to help manage this situation. Please stay with my fellow Knights. They will keep you safe.”
I lean forward. “Help her.”
“We will do our best.” He releases my hand and it the physical loss of his touch is almost painful.
Hawke walks toward the people crowded around the nearly hysterical mother. Her pain is gasping for air. It’s like I can see it bleeding on the floor and smell its utter despair. I’m not a parent. But I’ve felt that type of pain before. Watching my mother burn at the stake during a publicly televised execution? Yeah, that’s a trauma I’m not sure I’ll ever completely unpack. Losing someone you love is the worst pain imaginable, but I’m guessing losing a child tops even that. My mother died in my place, rather than lose me…
If my stepdad hand’t drugged me right after they lit the fires, my magick would’ve gone nuclear. Everyone there, the neighbors, anyone within a half-mile radius would’ve died.
We moved after that. To a small isolated farm. My emotions were easier to control there. I never turned on a TV again after that day. Didn’t listen to the radio unless it was the classical music channel (turns out Mozart doesn’t trigger magickal meltdowns). I didn’t go to the store. I was a hermit with Wi-Fi, spending my time researching online or studying through our massive library of physical books. Mom’s book collection would’ve made a university librarian weep with joy. Now all those books are just sitting in that farmhouse, collecting dust.
And I’m here. Standing in Avalon. The place my mom searched for her entire life. The place she’d always hoped would be able to help me control my magick.
And I have Kellan. And he’s helping. And there’s Hawke and I don’t understand my connection to him, but it’s there and it’s strong and I know I need him.
I lean closer to Ares. “Where are we?”
“Welcome to the Hall of Realms, Milady. This is the place where all eight worlds intersect. Each doorway opens to a bridge through space to another planet.”
“Only eight?”
“Do you know of a ninth, milady?” His grin is teasing, but also curious, like he’d take me seriously if I said I did.
No, I... it felt off. Sorry." I don’t know what to tell him, except that when he said eight worlds, it felt wrong. Which is ridiculous. I’m certain no expert on multi-world theories.