Oh, Gods—my parents. The image of them lying motionless in the dirt, their faces pale and still, burned behind my eyes, and it was suddenly everything I could do to keep the tears from starting. I'd been so focused on survival, on escaping the Guard and the hounds, on making it across the stones alive, that the full reality of their deaths hadn't truly settled in my chest until this exact moment.
And now that truth was settling within me fully:they were gone. Forever.
“Your magic,” Merlin said, interrupting the thoughts rampaging through my head, “is powerful.” He paused. “As you most likely already know, whoever crosses the stones perishes.”
I nodded, though I didn't know what to make of it.
He motioned for me to come closer. "Show me."
Then he lifted his hand, palm facing upward toward the vaulted ceiling, and I watched in fascination as a thin stream of water began to materialize from the air. It started as a trickle, no thicker than a ribbon, but as his fingers moved, the stream grew stronger and more substantial. The water spiraled upward in an elegant helix, catching the torchlight as it wove through the space above us.
The raw energy emanating from his magic thrummed through the air like a heartbeat, and I felt something deep within my chest respond—a resonance that made my bones hum and my blood sing. It was as if some sleeping part of me had suddenly awakened.
With a subtle flick of his wrist, Merlin guided the spiraling water downward. It pooled gracefully into a large, crystal-clear basin that hadn't been there moments before—smooth obsidian sides rising from the stone floor to cage the water. Then Merlin brought his focus back to me and nodded, extending his arm to invite me to approach the basin.
I walked toward it cautiously, aware of every eye in the hall watching. The water's surface reflected my face—pale, uncertain, afraid. Drawing a deep breath, I extended my hands over the basin, feeling for that strange current beneath my skin.
Nothing happened.
"Try again." Merlin's voice was soft.
As I focused harder, the water trembled and began to rise, forming a wobbly column that hovered uncertainly above the basin. Then it crashed back down.
"I can’t control it," I admitted, reaching up to wipe a few stray tears from my eyes.
He didn't respond other than to step closer, his robes shifting, the constellations seeming to follow his movements.He reached toward my forehead but then paused just before his fingertips could touch me.
He must have seen the fear in my eyes as I replayed all the stories of how he could extract thoughts and memories with a touch, leaving his victims hollow shells. But something in his eyes—a gentleness I hadn’t expected—made me nod.
He pressed his palm against my brow, and a sensation like ice water flowed through my mind. Memories flashed before my inner eye:Mother teaching me to churn butter, Father showing me how to milk the cows, my first accidental magic when I made all the water in our well rise during my twentieth birthday, and then my desperate flight through the forest with the Iron Hounds at my heels.
When Merlin withdrew his hand, his expression changed. I thought I caught a flash of shock and something that might have looked like hope.
“You are who I believed you could be."
"I am?" I didn't understand what that meant, but I was too tired, hungry, and anguished to ask how.
He nodded. “Guinevere. Born of Logres. But belonging to Annwyn.”
How did he know my name? And what did he mean—belonging to Annwyn? I thought better than to ask—upset the wizard and perhaps he’d eat me for supper.
As though he were reading my mind (and perhaps he could), he responded: "That is a conversation for another day, child. For now, know that you have two options before you: return to Logres and face certain death, or remain in Annwyn… under my protection."
I didn't understand why this powerful sorcerer would offer his protection to a simple dairymaid who had stumbled across his border like a hunted animal. What could he possibly want with someone like me?
"Wh—why would you help me?"
"Fate has designs that even I cannot fully comprehend." He paused as he studied me. "What matters is your choice now."
I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, but I failed to find any. Realizing he was correct in pointing out that I had nowhere else to go, I answered, "I accept your sanctuary."
Merlin's gaze sharpened as he nodded. "I will ask something of you one day, Guinevere. A favor. And when that day comes, you will not refuse."
My heart began to thud in earnest because his words sounded so ominous.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes." I nodded. "I understand."
