Page 25 of The Sword & the Stone

Lancelot, riding at the head of our little procession, glanced back at me over his shoulder. "The Holy Grail isn’t just acup. It’s a sacred artifact of immense power, crafted by the gods themselves and imbued with the very essence of life."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And it justhappensto be lost and in need of finding? Who would lose such a thing?"

Galahad, riding beside me, chuckled. "The cup wasn’tlost.It washidden. It was placed in the Wandering Wood on purpose.”

"What do you mean it was hidden on purpose? By whom?"

"The Holy Grail was hidden away centuries ago by the druids of the old religion. They were a brotherhood sworn to protect the cup and keep it out of the wrong hands. Legend says they built a secret temple deep within the Wandering Wood, and only those deemed worthy can find the path," Merlin explained.

"But why hide it away at all? If it's so powerful, wouldn't it be better to use it for good?"

"Power like that is too great a temptation," Lancelot said grimly. "In the wrong hands, the Grail could be used to become a conqueror. Entire kingdoms could fall, the very balance of life and death could be disrupted."

A chill raced down my spine at the thought. I thought of my own fae magic, the way it sometimes felt like a wild thing inside me, straining to break free.If a simple cup could grant actual immortality...

"So how are we supposed to find this secret temple?" I asked. "Do we have a map? A magic compass? A wise old guide who speaks only in riddles?"

Merlin snorted softly beside me. "Nothing quite so convenient, I'm afraid. The temple's location is a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations of Archdruids. Butthere are certain signs and portents that are said to guide the way for those who are worthy."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess. Cryptic rhyming clues carved into ancient standing stones? Hidden messages in the stars? Talking woodland creatures who give directions in exchange for a shiny trinket?"

Galahad laughed, the sound bright and warm in the gloom of the forest. "You've been reading too many faerietales. The signs are subtler than that. A forked path where there was none before. Or a stream that runs backwards. A gnarled tree in the shape of a chalice. Things that are easy to overlook if you don't know what to look for."

"And I suppose you lot know all the signs by heart?" I asked, glancing around at the knights.

Lancelot shook his head. "Not all of them. The knowledge was fragmented and scattered after the fall of the old religion. There’s a chance it might manifest in other ways too. We’ve never encountered a chosen one before, so who knows?"

"Well, that's just brilliant," I muttered. "A scavenger hunt through a magical forest with only half a clue to go on. I'm sure this will end splendidly."

Chapter Eight

GALAHAD

I glanced over at Arthur,trying not to grin as her brow furrowed in frustration as she tried to make sense of everything that’d been tossed her way. Despite the weariness and dirt of travel, she was still breathtakingly beautiful. All fiery attitude and wild curls escaping from her braid. I had to force myself to look away before my thoughts could wander down paths they shouldn't.

Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mind, searching for the familiar presence of a hawk I’d seen flying overhead. I found her soaring high above the treetops, her keen eyes scanning the forest below. Through the temporary bond, I saw what she saw—the dense green canopy stretching out in all directions, broken only by the thin ribbon of the path we followed.

At first glance, nothing seemed odd. But as the bird banked and circled, I caught a flicker of movement at the edge of her vision. A shadow darting between the trees, too large to be a deer or boar. My pulse quickened.

I urged the hawk lower, trying to get a better look. She dove, her wings tucking close to her body as she plummeted towards the forest floor. The wind rushed in her ears, and the trees blurred into a green smear. At the last moment, she snapped her wings open, pulling out of the dive mere feet from the ground.

And there, in a small clearing just ahead of our party, stood a figure cloaked in black. Even from a distance, I detected the malevolent energy radiating from them, a dark aura that made her feathers stand on end.

The figure's head was bowed, their face hidden deep within the shadows of their hood. But I caught the glint of eyes, cold and calculating, tracking our progress along the path. I severed the connection abruptly, not wanting to alert the stranger to my magical surveillance. Blinking away the lingering disorientation, I turned to the others.

"We're being watched," I said quietly, not wanting my voice to carry. "There's someone up ahead, just off the path. They're cloaked and hooded, but I could sense dark magic around them."

Lancelot's hand immediately went to his sword hilt, his posture tensing. "How close?"

"A quarter mile, maybe less. Definitely waiting for us."

"I don't like anything that skulks in the shadows," Tristan muttered.

Merlin held up a hand, his eyes unfocused as he extended his own magical senses. After a moment, he shook his head. "I can't get a clear reading. Whoever they are, they know how to shield their presence. But the fact that they're hiding at all suggests they don't have friendly intentions."

I glanced at Arthur, noting the way her hand had drifted to Excalibur's hilt. She met my gaze, her brown eyes hardening. "So what's the plan? We can't exactly turn around."

Lancelot nodded grimly. "We press on, but cautiously. Spread out a bit so we're not such a clustered target. Merlin, can you cloak our approach at all?"

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