“Taktu þá til Camelot. May the Guardians protect you.”
***
Many hours later, muted light appeared ahead of them in the tunnel, growing brighter as they approached. Thin, gray clouds blanketed the late afternoon sky. The wolves came to a halt near the exit without leaving the protection of the caves.
Emrys emerged first, scouring the area. Trystan and Marc rode up beside him. Pausing just outside, they found themselves on a low rising hill with a wide view of the landscape. Behind them, the old church at the Tor stood resolute, like a sentinel guarding over the town below. To the southeast, a large plateau rose high above the surrounding lands.
“There she is,” Emrys said, pointing towards the plateau. “That is where Camelot is resting, waiting for us. Waiting for her king.”
Trystan locked gazes with Emrys for a brief moment.
“Surely if we ride across now, there is a good chance we could be seen,” Marc said. “Morgaine knows this place. She may already be here.”
“True.” Trystan’s lips curved upward into a crooked smile. “But the wolves can help us with that. Hylja.”
Trystan and the wolf he sat upon faded from view.
“Where did he go?” Marc straightened, his pulse spiking. He searched the space around them. “What was that he whispered just before he disappeared?”
“Hylja?” Emrys asked.
“Yes, that!” Marc watched as Emrys and his wolf disappeared. “Hylja.”
The color around Marc faded, but he could still see the land. As his surroundings blurred slightly and grayed, Emrys and Trystan came into view beside him.
“Teleri taught me before we left,” Trystan smirked.
“Warn me next time before you just disappear,” Marc half scowled.
The corner of Trystan’s mouth curved, giving Marc a wry grin. “The wolves have a natural ability to meld into their surroundings. As long as we are in physical contact with the wolf, we too are melded. To others, we blend into our surroundings, causing us to appear invisible, and allowing us to safely travel across open distances without being seen.”
“But will Morgaine be able to detect this magic and find us?” Emrys asked.
“No, because it’s not magic. It is their natural ability. Trust me, Emrys. We are safe.”
“Who’s teaching who now?” Marc teased.
Arching his brow, Emrys pressed his lips into a thin line. Trystan looked at Emrys and laughed. It was only a brief moment, but it went a long way in brightening their spirits in the midst of preparing for war.
They arrived at the base of the large hill. A dense growth of trees and overgrown brush surrounded it. Along the northeastern edge, a hidden path climbed the hill through the wild overgrowth. It was concealed so well that, had Emrys not been there to guide them, it might have taken hours to find.
“Has this path always been here, Emrys?” Trystan asked.
“Yes. What you see is all that remains of the main road that leads into Camelot.”
Still mounted, they emerged from their invisible state following Trystan’s instructions and rode the wolves carefully up the trail. Exposed rocks and winding roots made for uneven terrain as the wolves padded their way strategically up the narrow, eroded path. Minutes later, they emerged on top to find the plateau covered mostly by wild grasses. Wild flowers sparsely dotted the hilltop amongst a few lonely trees and the ruins of some old stone walls.
Trystan dismounted his wolf and wandered about. Marc and Emrys followed, leaving the wolves to rest.
High above the surrounding plains, Trystan looked out towards Wydrin. The gusty breeze felt good blowing through his hair and clothes. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm sun on his skin.
Scratchy kisses tickled the back of Trystan’s neck. Marc’s arms went around his waist, squeezing him from behind.
Emrys stopped next to them.
“The view from up here is incredible, Emrys,” Trystan commented.
“I could certainly get used to it,” Marc whispered in Trystan’s ear.
