Chapter 32—The Flight of Two Dragons

Merlin pushed through the shimmering portal, returning to Avalon only a few minutes after they had left, Freya at his side. In Fjord, an entire week had passed, and with it, newfound knowledge of the lands beyond the portal. Freya’s mission was now complete, and she had agreed to lend her hand to the resolution of the barrier, as a thank you for Merlin’s assistance in her world.

Tanwen’s head turned in their direction, watching them approach. “You have returned quickly,” she said. One more dragon had hatched and was tumbling around the nest, playing with the other younglings.

“The portal is some kind of time barrier,” said Merlin. “One that Freya is going to help us collapse right now.” He walked up to Tanwen’s side and peered over the side of the nest, smiling. “You have a fine family there, Tanwen.”

Tanwen’s nostrils flared, and she huffed a pleased scent. “It is a beginning,” she cooed.

“I will still need your assistance to get back to Camelot,” he said with a tilt of his head. “You promised to help me. Can I count on you?”

Tanwen blinked, her outer eyelid sliding closed for a moment. She huffed, then nodded. “I will come for you when I feel the barrier drop.”

Skittles whickered softly, seeking Merlin’s attention. Merlin walked over to his horse then stroked the blaze on his nose. “Come, Freya, you can ride with me.”

Freya looked doubtfully at the horse as it butted its head on Merlin’s chest for more attention. “I will walk. I will be too heavy for your horse to carry. Besides, I can run as fast as you can ride.”

Merlin nodded and climbed into Skittle’s saddle, setting the pace at a quick trot. Merlin could feel the node where the barrier was centralized and rode straight for it, or as straight as he could while being forced to retrace his steps along the riverbed. The trip back took half as long as it had originally, Freya easily keeping pace with Skittles. They broke free of the canyon and rode down into the sloping bowl surrounding the lake, riding along its edge back out to where he had originally entered the Valley of Fallen Kings.

Curved bleached bones lined the path, taller than Merlin while riding. They’d tumbled this way and that and mixed with smaller bones, but it wasn’t the bones that held Merlin’s attention. The medallion under his shirt warmed as they approached the constructed magic of the barrier, vibrating harmoniously to match the frequency of the node. This must have been the sensation that the old peddler Edan had been describing. Merlin’s hair rose and the air crackled with elemental energies, seeking to repel those who did not have the required magic to enter. In the shadow of a cleft of rock, partially obscured by more bones, he sensed the pulsing of a stronger field, this one tied into the elements of the Valley of Fallen Kings. Merlin dismounted, then turned as Freya trotted up beside him. Her bony plates clicked like the carapace of a crayfish, yet he had become used to her unusual configuration.

She studied the cleft of rock, then lifting a hand, she pointed at a narrow join between the two slabs that formed a bridge. “The node is there. I do not know what powers it here, but I will be able to destroy it. Be ready for when Tanwen comes, and do not wait for me to return. I will take the barrier down so you can leave. Let me deal with what is inside. Go. I feel an urgency in the elements here. Your time to save your friend grows short.”

“Freya, I—” Merlin said, but Freya burst into a run and vanished inside the rift before he could complete his sentence. “Freya!” he yelled, but she had gone beyond his call. The moment she entered the rift, the cleft began to vibrate and with a sudden explosion of rock, the passage was buried under a rock slide. “Freya!” Merlin ran to the entrance and began to pull down rocks but suddenly a voice echoed in his head. Merlin, let me do this. Go.

Merlin lifted his head, studying the sky. The texture of the elements that powered the dome covering the Valley of Fallen Kings softened and changed. The pulse of the amulet resting against his chest shifted. It was only now that he became aware of the frantic buzzing, itchy sensation that had built up in his mind. His time as a tree had hypersensitized him to the magic of this valley. The buzzing eased, then quieted. A wind came up, washing through the valley in a sudden roar. As it swept past him, he felt the fleeting touch of a foreign magic, and then the wind stilled. Skittles’s head came up and with a snort, she moved off toward the lake, just as a dark reddish shape dropped out of the sky.

Tanwen landed with a thud, then walked over to Merlin. “The barrier is gone, wizard. You have kept your word. Now I will keep mine. Climb up on my back and I will take you where you need to go.”

Merlin grinned with excitement and then his grin faded. He wasted no time climbing onto her scaled back, climbing up her foreleg to settle behind a large neck spike. “Thank you, Tanwen. We must hurry. We will find Arthur near Camelot.”

Tanwen’s nose rose into the air and she sniffed. “I know exactly where they are. With the barrier gone, I can smell my child.” With a snarl of anger, she launched into the air. Merlin whooped, as his stomach lurched. He clutched the spike to steady himself as the dragon swept skyward. He glanced back over his shoulder at the node, watched as it pulsed a final time, then faded away. He thought he glimpsed a movement among the rocks just before the cleft was lost to view.

Tanwen circled twice then set a course for Camelot. As she passed over the edge of the former barrier, she let out a triumphant blast of flame in celebration of the freedom to fly her beloved skies once again. Merlin’s lips twitched, sharing her momentary joy, but then his own joy faded. Arthur was in pain. He could feel it. “Hurry, Tanwen, please hurry. I think Arthur is dying.”

Tanwen snorted and sped up, her powerful wings sweeping them across the sky faster than any bird had ever flown. Merlin wasn’t sure it would be enough.

***

Simone lurched through the sky, her hold on the bone dragon precarious. The water that had fallen from that cursed gargoyle had washed away some of the keeping spell, damaging her bond to the dragon.

She flew clear of the inner city, the grey outer walls of Camelot disappearing under her as she soared through a hail of arrows, shot by the guards perched on the top of the wall. She laughed at their useless attempts to shoot her down. They could no more harm her than a ray of sunshine could. Simone glanced down, eyes sweeping the ground. There, on the curve of the bridge that spanned the river, six knights of Camelot pointed in her direction, gesturing angrily with fists raised.

“Now that won’t do. You cannot follow me, little men. Arthur and I are going to have a private chat.” Simone swung around and dived toward the knights, her mouth open in a roar of flame. The knights ran, but she was faster. With a broad sweep of her tail, she hurdled both horses and men out over the side of the bridge. Gravity carried them into the river, where the swift current grabbed them and swept them away downstream. One sweep of her tail had tossed them all into the river, clearing the way for her escape with her prize still clutched in her talons.

But her dragon was weakening.

Fragile ligaments made from strands of elemental spirit, joined the bones of the beast. They were failing, much in the same way as a hamstrung horse. She struggled to keep the dragon in flight, but with a snap of wing bones, the dragon fell from the sky. Hastily, she steered it toward the roof of a barn a mile outside the walls of Camelot, covered in thick thatch, hoping to break their fall and not kill herself in the process. While she was joined, she was as vulnerable as the dragon to attack.

The collection of bones spiraled down then crashed into the roof, falling through it. Timber and straw collapsed to the floor of the barn, in a hail of debris. She lost her grip on Arthur, and he tumbled away across the floor, coming to a rest on his stomach. A heavy timber rolled on top of him. He did not stir. One leg was bent in a strange position, and blood oozed from a deep cut on the back of his head, dripping onto the hard-packed dirt floor, staining the ground in a dark, spreading circle.

Simone rested the dragon on the ground and set about repairing the damage done by the water. It was so strange that something as simple as water could cause the bond with the beast such trouble. Annoyed, she reformed the magic by placing a bandage of sorts across the rent in the element that had washed away. She would have to redo the spell to totally correct the damage, but this was not the place for such intricate work. She would need to go back to the beginning. Annoyed, she turned the dragon to peer down at Arthur’s limp body.

“I should just step on you right now and be done with it,” she growled. “One Pendragon erased from existence before I kill the king. But what would be the fun of that? Wake up, Prince Arthur.” She shoved him with a claw. His body slid a few inches, but he did not wake. She sat back. “Well, this is no fun. How am I supposed to torture you if you are asleep?” She got up and walked around the unconscious body, then sat back down. “Arthur, wake up!”

There was no response.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I will heal you, only so that you can truly feel the pain of dying.” Simone bent over Arthur and touched a claw to his head. She sent a blend of earth and spirit to heal his cracked skull, mending tissue and bone. She left the other broken bones and the cuts, although she slowed the blood flow. It wouldn’t do to have him bleed to death on her before she’d had her fun. Satisfied, she returned to the center of the barn and settled down to wait for him to recover and regain consciousness.

Through the broken edges of the roof’s thatch lightning flashed, accompanied by an ominous rumble of thunder. The storm suited Simone’s mood. Dark thoughts chased one another in her mind. Her mother’s last instructions had been clear. Kill the prince, then return for the king. Nimue was not a patient sorceress. If she had been there at that moment, she would be snapping at Simone to finish the job. Simone would not fail, but there was no reason to not enjoy the moment. Their revenge had been a long time coming. She could wait a little while longer.

“Arthur, wake up!” she growled.

Lighting flashed. Thunder rumbled. Arthur stirred.

The time had come at last.