Page 29 of The Sword & the Stone

We walked in what felt like circles. I could have sworn I’d seen the same tree three times already. Just as I was beginning to wonder if we were trapped in some sort of enchantment, the trail ended abruptly at the mouth of a cave.

The entrance was low and narrow, jagged stone teeth jutted down from above. Runes were carved along the arched stone, glowing with the same eerie light as the key in my hand. I held it up, comparing the symbols. They were identical.

I took a step forward, but Lancelot's hand shot out, gripping my arm. "Wait," he said, his eyes narrowed as he studied the cave mouth. "Those runes...They're wards, meant to keep out the unworthy."

"Unworthy?" Gawain echoed, a note of unease in his voice. "What does that mean?" I met his steel colored eyes, and he forced a smile. “Not that you could be unworthy, my lady.”

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smirk. “Of course not.”

Tristan examined the runes too. "Only those pure of heart and strong of will complete the test. I suspect if you fail, your soul will join the shades that haunt this place."

I felt a flicker of uncertainty, remembering Mordred's taunting words.Was I worthy?After learning of my true parentage, of the lies that had shaped my life, I wasn't so sure anymore.

“How many trials are there between us and the Grail?” I asked the knights.

They shared a heavy look. “It’s different for every person. Some only have one and fail, while others face as many as ten,” Percival said.

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the key until its edges bit into my palm. Ten trials. Ten chances to prove my worth, or to fail and be cast aside like the unwanted bastard I apparently was.

"Well then," I said. "Let's get started, shall we? The faster we get through these trials, the faster we can claim the Grail and be done with this godsforsaken quest."

I marched forward, ignoring the prickle of unease down my spine as I crossed the threshold of the cave. The moment I stepped inside, the runes flared brightly, and a gust of icy wind whipped past me, tugging at my hair and cloak.

The cave was dark, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and something else, something ancient and musty. I heard the drip of water echoing in the distance, each plunk seeming unnaturally loud in the stillness.

Merlin summoned a wisp of druidlight, the pale gold glow casting eerie shadows on the rough-hewn walls. I pointedly didn't look at him as we moved through, my boots scuffing against the uneven ground.

We hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when the passage opened up into a vast chamber. Towering stone pillars rose up into the darkness, their surfaces covered in more of those glowing runes.

In the center of the chamber stood a massive stone altar, its surface stained dark with what I could only assume was blood or tar. A sense of dread settled in my gut as I approached it, the key in my hand pulsing in time with my racing heart.

"I think I know what this is," Merlin murmured, his voice hushed with reverence and a hint of fear. "I think this is the Wraithstone Cavern. Where druids in the old religion were sent to test themselves before being accepted into their sect. When you read that riddle aloud, you weren’t speaking the common tongue. You spoke the old language of the fae. I think you opened a doorway to this cavern for a reason."

I shot him a sharp look. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

Before he could answer, the chamber filled with a swirling mist, cold and clammy against my skin. Ghostly figures took shape within the haze, their features twisted with anguish. I could vaguely make out human-like shapes, but they writhed and changed. I backed up several steps, my fingers twitching with the urge to grab Excalibur.

"Arthur Pendragon." The voices seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing off the stone walls. "You who seek the Holy Grail, step forward and face your reckoning."

My legs felt like lead as I forced myself to approach the altar, each step a battle against the instinct to turn and flee. I was used to running from danger, not seeking it out. This was a new world, and if I didn’t dive in head first, I’d probably end up failing my first trial.

As I drew closer, the mist parted, revealing a familiar face. Horror ratcheted through me, and I felt a strangled sob building in my throat. Tears pricked my eyes, but I shook my head, telling myself it wasn’t really her.

"Mother?" I whispered, my voice cracking.

She looked just as she had in my earliest memories, before the fire had stolen her away. But her eyes...they were hollow, accusatory.

"You are no daughter of mine," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You are the bastard child of a fae whore and a false king. A mistake. An abomination."

I recoiled as if slapped, tears stinging my eyes. "No," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, that's not true. You loved me."

"How could I love a creature like you?" Her beautiful face twisted into a sneer. "I cursed the day you were born, cursed the day you arrived at my doorstep. You ruined my life, stole my future. I died hating you, despising the very sight of you."

A sob tore from my throat, raw and wretched. I sank to my knees; the key tumbled from my numb fingers to clatter against the stone. This couldn't be real. It had to be some sort of trick, some cruel illusion conjured by the cave's ancient magic.

But deep down, an insidious voice whispered that it was true. That I had always been unloved, unwanted. A burden and a blight on the lives of those around me.

"You will fail, Arthur Pendragon." My mother's shade loomed over me, her words dripping with malice. "You are unworthy of the Grail, unworthy of Excalibur, unworthy of the crown you covet. Abandon this quest before it destroys you, as you destroyed me."

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