Brown eyes blinked hard once before she opened her mouth to continue to argue with me, but Merlin’s voice cut through our heated exchange.
“Enough!” The exclamation echoed through the clearing, a magical undercurrent turning the air around us alive with an inhuman crackle.
Merlin’s curls lifted with it as he glared at the two of us, his expression stony as his eyes seemed to glow even brighter.
“The portent is clear,” he said, his voice taking on an almost sing-song quality as he spoke. “Guinevere, the omega out of time, will bring light back to Logres and create a world for future kings to come. With her king by her side and his pack, they will show the world that as one, we will fall, but as many we will triumph.”
Then Merlin stumbled back as if the magic was pulled from his body and went down onto one knee, a wheeze rattling out of his chest as all of the color drained from his face.
“Merlin?” I asked with concern and watched with shock as he careened to the side with a thud.
Chapter Four
Everything about the outside world wastoo muchafter ten long years.
The air on my skin, the sound of wind blowing through the trees, the raucous laughter echoing into the clearing, hells even Arthur’s glare felt as if it could peel the very skin off of my bones as the magic of the gods was pulled from my body and I took a knee in the damp grass.
A wave of dizziness filled me and I felt my shoulder hit the ground before everything went dark.
As I floated through that inky blackness, I thought about how I had come to this moment.
Ten years ago I had been happily living in Arthur’s castle, fiddling with my potions and considering taking on an apprentice in my retirement—or at the very least that was what I had kept telling myself.
A relative peace had befallen the realm after five years of Arthur’s reign. Even the tribal kings seemed to acknowledge my king as their ruler in some capacity, though some were more begrudging about their loyalty than others.
None could deny that Arthur was a good, fair king and the people who lived in his lands were happier and healthier than some of their counterparts in other parts of Logres.
But I had never been able to shake the feeling that there wassomethingelse that still needed to happen before Arthur’s story was finished and he could live out his days as the King of Camelot, and eventually, Logres as a whole.
Ever since the gods saw fit to form me out of pieces of the universe, my one goal had been to serve and protect the king that they had chosen. Arthur wasimportant,not only that, he was kind, and just, and good.
I went from quite literally being nothing to something with a purpose formed by the hands of the gods, namely Arianhrod who I supposed was the closest thing I had to a mother—not that she had ever said as much to me. That fact hadn’t been lost on me as I learned how humans lived, that I had an end goal as soon as my bare feet touched the mossy soil just outside of Sir Ector’s homestead.
Most humans struggled to find such things. They were a funny species, fighting amongst themselves in what I viewed as petty squabbles, but the gods never gave me any portents or visions concerning those fights.
No, every vision and view of the future I had ever received had been about the man who was angrily standing in front of me, making it clear he was upset with me for disappearing for ten years.
It truly hadn’t felt that long deep in my cave. When I finally pulled Guinevere through to me, it had only felt like meremonths had passed since I had last seen Arthur. Time amongst the gods was strange like that.
At first, stepping out of my cave and onto the stage set before me, it had felt like no time had passed at all and Arthur was still the young king that I had left behind in a flurry all those years ago after the gods recalled me to my cave to do their bidding.
Then I spotted the lines around his blue eyes and the gray hairs in his golden-red beard and I knew right away that things had changed for my king—now an established man amongst his people… I just did not know if they were for the better yet. It occurred to me that I may no longer know Arthur Pendragon at all. At least not this version of him.
As I continued to float, exhausted from the sheer amount of magic it had taken to pull two lifelines at the same time, I dazedly thought about the other string.
Guilt filled me as I thought about the poor soul who had been collateral in my last ditch attempt to finally bring Guinevere into our time—to save us all.
I didn’t know anything about that omega. Who she was, what time she had been pulled to, nor could I connect with her the same way that I had been able to with Juneau or Eleanor.
As consciousness started to return to me, Arthur’s voice calling my name through the darkness, I sent a plaintive prayer up to my gods, begging them to take care of her so that I could focus on the task at hand.
Be well, my child,a faint whisper answered fondly, the same voice I always heard when the gods shared their wishes with me—my de facto mother, Arianrhod, the goddess of destiny, keeper of the silver wheel of fate.
The words seemed to untangle my conflicted soul and bring me back to the present.
I awoke with the gasp, the cool air harsh on my lungs as I pulled it in.
“Are you all right?” Gwen’s voice was much softer than it had been only moments ago when she was arguing with Arthur.
