Page 3 of Secrets of Avalon

My stepfather wouldn’t let me come alone. And now we’re hiking up a Peruvian mountain on the western edge of the Amazon Rainforest. And not just us, all of my mother’s closest friends insisted on coming along, too, plus a guide Dad found in a local village at the base of the mountain.

My mother’s friends have been around since I was a little kid. They’re family. Aunt Margo, Aunt Dottie, and Uncle Lars have even lived with us from time to time through the years. They insisted on coming with Dad and I when I found the map in mom’s things. Aunt Margo is my only true blood relation–my mother’s sister–but they’re all family.

They’re all determined to keep me out of the Enclave’s greedy hands, the equivalent of the magick mafia. Which I appreciate. I don’t really want the criminal underground using my powers for evil. I already carry enough guilt for the pain and accidents I've caused.

Unfortunately, the Enclave isn’t the only shadow lurking the dark. The Inquisitors’ evil eye is always watching too–a global agency with unrestrained access and full authority from all governments to eliminate anyone caught using magick. (They do their erasing by burning people alive, just in case you were wondering.)

So here we all are, hiking up a mountain in the dark, in Peru, following a map I found in my mother’s things that she never got around to investigating. Which is strange, because the map was tucked inside her most recent journal and there were no notes. Nothing. Not a single mention of the map on any page.

Her life’s work, her obsession, had been to find Avalon. To find a way to help me learn to control my very out-of-control magick.

The map specifically mentions a door to Avalon. Mom would’ve been bouncing off the walls with excitement. She wouldn’t have tucked it in a journal and hidden it. But it was there. And now we’re here.

Well, almost there. The cave, with its secrets, beckons me closer. The power inside me thrums and sings to my ever-present magick. I take several deep breaths, pushing it back down again.

Don’t lose it. Keep it together. Don’t ruin this. Your dad’s right in front of you. You’ll hurt him. Aunt Dottie and Margo are right behind you. Breathe. Count. Midén. Éna. Dío. Tría. Tésera. Pénde… It was a trick my mom had taught me to push the magick back.

My foot slips and I squeak, falling forward.

My dad’s strong arms catch me before I faceplant in the dirt and stands me back upright on the path.

“Good?”

“Yeah. Just distracted. I can feel my power,” I whisper. “My whole body is humming. I’m scared. I started to count to distract myself and I just…”

“This is where you’re supposed to be. I know it.”

“Why didn’t she say something, though?” I pull the parchment from my satchel and unfold it. I point to the Irish Gaelic phrase Tír na nÔg inscribed on the corner of the map–The Otherworld. Or Avalon in some legends. “This is the find of a lifetime. We’ve never found a single documented reference to Avalon or the Otherworld outside of a fairytale.”

“I don’t know, Mel, but it was in her journal. She thought it was worth investigating, even if she hadn’t shared it with us yet.” He takes the map from me and traces his finger along the path up the mountain. The one we’re on. “She had to have been so excited to have found something like this.”

I nod. A smile curves my lips. She would’ve been. I can imagine her face. The energy in her voice. This was what she lived for, the exploration, the hunt, the hope that one day she would be able to save me from myself.

Losing her had happened so fast. And so publicly. My mother had tried to shift reality to show people an illusion of a normal parking lot after I lost control, but there were too many witnesses… It had been too big a mess to cover up.

Tears run down my cheeks. “I wish she was here.”

He steps closer, wrapping me in his big burly arms. His hug is silent, but his heart beats, steady and strong against mine, a rhythm that’s been a constant in my life. He’s always been there for me. Tucked me in when I was little. Kissed my knee when I fell. Threatened to beat up the first boy who broke my heart.

“It’s not fair, Dad. Everything is my fault,” I grind the words out, the anger making my magick burn inside my gut, but I don’t let it out. I won’t hurt my dad.

The fabric of his shirt brushes against my cheek, a soft contrast to the stubble on his chin. I close my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the moment, trying to anchor myself in the warmth of his presence. We might be on the side of a mountain, but his arms are a strong, familiar safe haven in my whirlwind of grief and it helps my magick calm down to a safe hum.

“None of it is your fault, Mel. Your mom always said you were special in a way that none of us understood. And you are.”

We pull away from our embrace, and with a mutual, silent nod, we turn to rejoin the hike.

The night has draped the Peruvian mountainside in a cloak of thick darkness, the dense canopy of the western Amazon rainforest is still thick, even at this altitude.

The guide, a shadowy figure with a flashlight, leads the way. His light cuts through the darkness, a beacon guiding us along the narrow uneven trail. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth and the rich, organic aroma of the rainforest, intensified by the cool night air at this height.

Ahead, the silhouettes of Dottie, Margo, and Lars are just visible. Their flashlights bob like fireflies in the darkness, occasionally illuminating their faces. Dottie’s laughter, a surprising sound in the stillness of the night, echoes softly. Margo moves with purpose, her light steady, while Lars’ flashlight beam darts around, revealing glimpses of the surrounding wild.

The darkness amplifies the sounds of the forest—distant calls of nocturnal creatures, the rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze, the occasional crack of a branch underfoot.

The higher we’ve climbed the more challenging the path has become, but the pain of the hike is a welcome distraction and escape from the thoughts and guilt swirling in my mind.

There’s this strange feeling inside me—like my magick is waking up. It’s different than anything I’ve ever felt before. Like there’s something at the top of this mountain desperately calling to me.

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