“Okay then what do I do? Rub my feet on that bearskin rug over there, build up static, and then try to zap you with it? Use a magic word? DoesAlakazamwork here?”
“What is static?” Arthur asked, clearly confused about the direction that the conversation had taken.
I searched my memory of the future in an attempt to explain it to the king but Guinevere just rolled her eyes.
“What static is doesn’t matter—how am I supposed to use this magic you claim I have?” She waved her hands in the air with a furrowed brow as if that could conjure moisture from the air.
“It is not so simple,” I told her with a shake of my head. “It takes time to properly learn how to use magic, but I have need of you tonight. This evening you will act as a conduit for me.”
“A conduit?” Guinevere asked, her hands dropping to her sides. “How do I do that?”
I turned to Arthur who was still standing and looked as if he was a few moments from dropping completely. The king’s skin was ashen and he swayed on his feet in a way that spurred me into action. “Lie down, Arthur.”
Arthur sank down onto the bed without further argument, his back hunched for a moment before he let himself fall amongst the covers with a groan.
Guinevere rounded the bed, her expression worried as she examined the wound which had begun to bleed again. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
I was not certain in the slightest, but I did not want her panic to keep me from accessing her magic.
“It will,” I told her with false-confidence as I held out my hand to her.
“What do I do?” Guinevere’s fingers slid into mine and the warm thrum of her magic was immediately obvious. Eleanor and Juneau had possessed magic that had been powerful, but Guinevere’s magic feltdifferentas if it wanted to jump into mine without me needing to do much to draw it out.
“Just relax,” I told her softly, my voice no more than a whisper as I felt her magic start to filter through where our hands were connected. The vast emptiness that was my magical reserves began to fill faster than anything I had ever felt before.
It was so fast that I could feel the magic crackling in the air around us, lifting our hair as if neither of us could contain the energy any longer.
“Whoa,” Guinevere gasped, her normally brown eyes starting to glow blue as they had the night she had arrived and touched me.
The only time I had ever felt anything like this was the day I had been born—thoughcreatedwould probably be a better word for it.
My goddess Arianhrod had formed me from her own magic for the express purpose of being an aid to Arthur’s fate. Magic had never flowed through me so much as that day when she created each piece of me before pushing me into the misty, cold world below.
Now Guinevere’s magic chased away all of the iciness that had settled into my limbs and I felt suddenly strong again. My entire body was flushed with an inexplicable pleasure as her thumb ran circles over the top of my hand, her cheeks filling with color as she stared at me.
“What is it?” Arthur asked, trying to sit up as he frowned up at us. The king, who bore the magic sword Excalibur but possessed no innate magic himself could not feel the sheer level of magic floating in the air.
Guinevere’s head jerked in his direction, her dark curls bouncing as she looked at the king with an open-mouthed shock. “You can’t feel that?”
“No, but I can see your hair lifting as by invisible threads,” Arthur told us, his skin growing even more pale as he flopped back down onto the bed.
“We must heal him, Gwen,” I told her quickly, threading our fingers more tightly together. It was, in-part, because I needed to continue to touch her to use her as a conduit to heal my king, but also in-part because I could not help but enjoy the way her fingers felt in mine and how our magic seemed to dance around each other in a way I had never experienced before.
Holding my free hand over Arthur’s wound, I began to weave the spell of healing, my mouth moving in the ancient words I knew by heart.
Arthur gasped, his blue eyes flying open as the skin knit itself back together and the redness around the gash began to fade.
I stared down at the wound with surprise as the healing seemed to be occurring much faster than it usually did. Normally, it would take upwards of an hour for me to do a spell like this, even with the reserve of magic that my goddess had gifted me, but now I watched as the wound closed almost instantly.
Guinevere had magic, but it did not feel strong enough to do spells such as this until we were physically touching. Now it felt as if I could do any spell with ease and with little sacrifice.
It gave me much to ponder as I finally slipped my fingers free from hers and checked on the king who was now fast asleep, his cheeks flushed with color again and his wound healed completely.
Without contact, the powerful feeling that had filled me so completely began to fade, and though I did not feel as weak as I had walking into the room earlier, my body still ached for a good night’s rest.
I turned to leave, but Guinevere’s voice stopped me. “Wait!”
She moved around to my front, the glowing light still fading from my eyes. “You said that it takes a lot to learn magic like that.”
